Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men
by Meester Lee
Summary: Arcturus Black, head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, travels to Highland, Texas to see his eight year-old great-granddaughter. A side story to Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years
1. Chapter 1

DAR No Country For Unpleasant Old Men Part One

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and belongs to MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor desrve financial compensation for this work. I am writing for ego gratification.

DAR No Country*DAR No Country*DAR No Country* DAR No Country*DAR No Country* DAR No Country*DAR No Country* DAR No Country*DAR No Country* DAR No Country*DAR No Country* DAR No Country*DAR No Country

Author's note: The latest ukase from JK Rowling is that witches and wizards cannot aparate across the ocean. I am going to amend it slightly to say that only the most powerful witches and wizards can aparate across the ocean. The rest of them, like their Muggle counterparts, will have to find other means of traveling from shore to shore. Since ocean liners are a scarcity these days, flying is the way to go.

It was time to see the girl, thought Arcturus Black. He'd buried more old friends in the last couple of years, and even factoring in his admittedly-weak powers of divination, he wasn't that sure as to just how long his remaining health and vigor would last. If he wished to learn whether Daria Morgendorffer was worthy to be considered a daughter of the House of Black, and if he wanted something beyond second-hand reports, he'd best do it now before old age and infirmities penned him in.

He made another inquiry at the detective agency. He wasn't too sure if the Morgendorffers were still living in that dreadful Texas town, but if they moved, he wanted to know about it, as well as learn just where they had moved to. Fortunately, "Piggy," the investigator who worked with him a couple of years ago, was still there. Piggy remembered him, still remembered the contacts his firm used in Texas, and still had records of the family he wanted investigated. Piggy quickly confirmed that the Morgendorffers hadn't moved.

Arcturus now had to decide how he'd get there. A very few of the most powerful wizards and witches could apparate across the ocean. He was all too aware that he couldn't; he'd have to use other means of crossing the water. He was dismayed to learn that the ocean liner traffic he'd taken for granted but never used in his youth had diminished to almost nothing. If he wanted to cross, he'd have to fly.

He decided that he wasn't willing to travel alone. He'd started traveling through Muggle parts of Britain again and had realized that he wasn't able to deal with some of the latest Muggle devices. Luckily for him, he was able to find a suitable companion on short notice: Iago Hook, the grand-nephew of one of his Slytheryn housemates. Iago had graduated from Hogwarts a couple of years before but was still at loose ends, despite his pure-blood status. Despite his lack of steady employment, Iago had picked up an assortment of useful skills outside the wizarding world, not only knowing how to drive, and how to use Muggle telephones, but also how to rent Muggle automobiles, make reservations at Muggle hotels and, most importantly, charter private aircraft. Iago was able to find a small charter jet operator that catered to well-heeled witches and wizards interested in traveling across the sea without having being encased for hours on end in a long, thin tube full of irritable, smelly, badly-behaved Muggles.

Arcturus also decided that Kreacher should come along with him; the house elf would prove useful. Since Walburga died a couple of years ago and since Sirius was currently in Azkkaban, Arcturus informed the house elf that he had again become his master and Kreacher complied. The elf was still mourning Walburga's death; Arcturus decided that the house elf could use the airing. If things worked as well as he hoped, Kreacher could meet his future mistress.

Arcturus now had to decide how he'd travel from the Dallas airport to Highland. He could, if he wanted to, apparate directly to Highland or use the Americans' floo network. But he decided that he wanted to see the territory his great-granddaughter was living in, and despite the fact that he was going to bring a house-elf with him, he decided to use Muggle means. He thought about chartering another Muggle jet and flying directly to Highland and rejected it; it would attract too much attention. Better to fly to someplace like Dallas and take Muggle means from there.

He thought about using Muggle public transport. He wasn't too worried about Kreacher's revealing his true nature, at least for short periods of time. Despite their subordinate status in the magical world, house elves could put on glamours as good or better than those of wizards and witches if ordered to. Unfortunately, since the American Muggles had savaged their passenger rail network decades ago, and since he refused to take a bus, he'd have to travel by automobile. And since he didn't care to drive long distances, he'd also need a driver. That was one of the roles Iago would play.

He told no one outside of his family, not even his mistress, of his real reasons for making this trip before he left. Even within his family, he only his cousin Pollux knew his true intentions. His ostensible reason for traveling at his advanced age was to see the Muggle observatories in west Texas and New Mexico. When asked by friends and family why he should go to someplace as ghastly and Muggle-ridden as Texas, he replied that he saw no reason why Wizards had to apologize for an interest in astronomy, especially since Muggle astronomers were more numerous than their wizarding counterparts and had been more active than about charting new planets, new stars, and new galaxies.

Arcturus' travel plans appeared to be going swimmingly. He had a passport, a traveling companion, flight and hotel reservations, and Iago was certain that he could rent an automobile. Then he received an owl from the air charter service. The agent that negotiated the charter arrangements with Iago insisted that all the members of Arcturus' pary attend a short class the charter agency called "ground school." The agent proved unbending in her responses even when Arcturus went over to the agency to protest. After all, he had not only flown on brooms, but he had even flown on an airliner before, admittedly before the Grindlewald War. The agent remained insistent that he attend "ground school," then became adamant when he remarked that he'd be bringing his house elf along on his travels. Not only he and Iago would have to attend "ground school," Kreacher would have to attend, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Daria Ravenclaw No Country For Unpleasant Old Men Part One B

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for my stories. I am writing for ego gratification.

DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country* DR No Country

The charter operator provided him and Iago an address and, together with Kreacher, they flooed over to an old house at the edge of a Muggle airfield. They'd have to trudge over to a hanger sited well away from the other ones at the airport. The travel agent had previously come over to apologize personally for the indignity, but the charter jet company was wary of the potential for magic confounding Muggle electronics and wished to reduce the risk.

They passed through the fence with the knowing connivance of a security guard who knew of the classes, then entered the hanger building through a side door. Arcturus suspected that the guard probably had magical ancestry, but chose not to make an issue of it. The hanger building also included a small classroom where the charter company could teach classes and make presentations to its staff and its clients.

Arcturus, Iago, and Kreacher were greeted, signed in, then officially entered the air charter company's "ground school." They first watched what looked like a Muggle-produced video explaining the theory and practice of Muggle-powered flight. Despite his usual disdain for things Muggle, Arcturus found it fascinating. Of course, he'd seen birds fly by flapping their wings and by gliding and knew that was how kites and Muggle gliders stayed up in the air. Like most adult wizards, he'd seen Muggle aeroplanes although, like most well-mannered pure-bloods, he'd affected not to notice them; but he hadn't given much thought as to how Muggle aircraft engines pulled or pushed Muggle flying machines through the sky or how wing flaps and tail flaps could help a Muggle flying machine to maneuver. And what was almost as marvelous was the fact that Muggles were able to do it without magic.

The video on principles of Muggle flight was followed by another video showing the basics of Muggle commercial air travel and how they contrasted with the charter company's arrangements. Despite the fact that most of the passengers used in this video were almost certainly Muggles, Arcturus thought their accommodations were appalling. Imagine being confined to a cramped seat in a tight narrow tube and being expected to remain there for hours on end! And the hapless Muggle passengers didn't travel alone; they shared the tube with other Muggles, undoubtedly smelly, rude, irritable, and occasionally sickly. Despite his distaste for Muggles, he could almost feel pity for them. Almost.

After the second video, the instructors invited him, Iago, and Kreacher to examine the interior of one of the charter jets sharing hangar space with the classroom and its modest repair facilities. The accommodations were cramped by Arcturus's standards, but looked far superior to Muggle commercial airliners.

Like most dark wizards of a certain age, Arcturus had a well-tuned scent for bunkum. He asked Iago if the charter company's video exaggerated the conditions of Muggle air travel. He was again appalled when Iago informed them that the exaggeration was slight.

Some wizards might have simply left the business of flying the aircraft to the Muggle pilots. Arcturus found his curiosity piqued. He knew his way around a broom; many years before, Arcturus had been a Quidditch player at Hogwarts; he'd been a good chaser and a good flyer in his day.

How did these Muggles keep control of these large, complicated aircraft without magic? It sounded very complex and dangerous. He knew a number of spells and charms he could use if he found himself in mortal peril on a Muggle aircraft, but what about the hapless Muggles? A prang that he could escape from by apparating away could very well kill them.

The charter company's "ground school" also included some exercises beyond the basic video and subsequent oral examination. One of them was to toss a Muggle-made gliding toy and try to make it fly as far as it would go without using magic. Arcturus thought the exercise childish, but decided to be a good sport and go through with it anyway. Throwing the glider made him feel a little like a boy again. Of course when he was a boy, Muggle flying machines were little better than a novelty. He and Iago picked up and tossed the Muggle-made toys in the air, although their flights were disappointingly brief. Iago was able to out-perform his best; after several tries, Iago was able to get his glider to fly a good two meters before it landed on the hangar floor.

To Arcturus' amusement, Mrs. Byrd insisted that Kreacher also pick up and throw his balsa-wood glider in the mostly-empty empty hangar. Kreacher gave a loud sniff, as he was prone to do when he saw something he disapproved of; he didn't see the need for the exercise and was quite vocal about it.

"Kreacher sees no reason for playing with Muggle toys," said the house elf.

"You, sir, need to understand how Muggle aircraft work as much as your boss does," said Mrs. Byrd. "If you don't pass, you don't fly. And if you don't fly, he will be angry with you, and from my viewpoint, with good reason."

Kreacher thought about it, sniffed again in disapproval, shot her a dirty look, then picked up the Muggle toy and started trying to throw it. After a dozen tries, he was able to make it glide a meter and a half. Mrs. Byrd made him repeat the exercise again for good measure.

After the instructor announced that she was satisfied with how Arcturus, Iago, and Kreacher could throw the balsa gliders, she made them repeat the exercise, only this time with balsa wood toys with rubber band-powered propellers. Kreacher had more difficulty making his wind-up toy fly than he had with the glider. He either launched his toy airplane in a pitch that either caused it to stall because he pointed his too high or crash-land because he set the pitch too low. Occasionally, he held on to the toy airplane too long and let the propeller's rubber band unwind too much to allow the aircraft to fly very far. After numerous tries, the house elf was first able to make his non-powered glider fly two meters, then make his rubber-band powered propellered toy fly three meters. Arcturus hoped that the house elf hadn't been cheating.

After completing the exercises, they were excused for the evening; they would have to return the following day. Mrs. Byrd again made a presentation on the concepts and practicalities of Muggle powered flight, considerably dryer than the previous night's videos. After a break, Arcturus, Iago, and Kreacher endured intense oral exams, then all three of them—Arcturus, Iago, and Kreacher—were pronounced ready to actually board a passenger aircraft.

Arcturus remained curious about Muggle powered-flight even after passing the charter operation's "final examination" and now being considered suited to Muggle flight. He discovered that the charter operator also held flying classes for witches and wizards interested in learning the basics of Muggle powered flight. He enrolled for a month's lessons, taking Kreacher with him.

So many things to mind—airspeed, flight angles, flap settings, fuel consumption, aircraft engines…it was a marvel that Muggle pilots got off the ground and stayed in the air, let alone land their perilous flying machines.

After a week of classes, the instructor invited Arcturus to have a go at the flight simulator. Arcturus took his seat, took the controls, attempted to make a take-off, and crashed when he ran out of runway and forgot to pull up the control stick. He tried again—and crashed when he pulled the control stick too far back and his simulated aircraft stalled. He made a third effort—and crashed again when he put too much pressure on the right control pedal and the aircraft rolled into the ground.

After several more tries and accidentally causing a computer crash when he let go a burst of accidental magic, he managed to get his simulated aircraft into the air. His instructor wasn't quite ready to let him sit in an actual cockpit and fly a real aircraft quite yet, but told him that he had more promise than some of the other wizards and witches who'd taken the class. Considering how many times Arcturus had crashed in the simulator, he wasn't all that much reassured.

.Kreacher did not participate. He spent his time sitting idly in a seat while Arcturus was taking instruction or using the simulator.

"Why does Master Arcturus bother with learning how stupid Muggles fly?" said Kreacher. "The stupid Muggles can drive their stupid, noisy, flimsy machines!"

His mistress asked him the same question, howbeit more genteelly, one evening after they'd retired.

"Because I wish to gain some sort of notion as to how much skill is required to fly a Muggle flying machine," said Arcturus. "I am as likely as not going to be entrusting my life to their hands, and it might prove wise not to overly insult them."

"But they're our inferiors," his mistress replied.

"But they're beneath us," his mistress replied. "These pilots are Muggles after all."

"Which as may be," Arcturus replied. "Still, even if they are our inferiors, they have talents and skills that most Muggles lack. Which I lack. A measure of courtesy can be a useful tool, and I might have to allow them a touch more leeway for looking at me crosswise than a drunken Muggle bricklayer. It's not like I can curse the pilot on the spot and expect another crewman I'd picked at random to take his place."

"Besides, love, it's not like I'm going to seat him at a formal dinner or arrange for him to marry my daughter."

His mistress smiled at Arcturus' last remark, then both of them went to sleep.

He finally dropped the class less than a fortnight before his departure for Texas; he'd gained a lot of respect for Muggle pilots.

When the day came, Arcturus walked out to the parked aircraft with Iago and the other wizards and witches who would be boarding this flight. Kreacher was with them, wearing a glamour that disguised him as a small child.


	3. Chapter 3

No Country for Unpleasant Old Men Part II

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creation of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for my efforts. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

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When you looked beyond the superficialities, Nightingale Aero Charters, Ltd. was an unusual air charter company. True, it was limited-liability corporation, it did have such things as a chief executive officer, a chief financial officer, shareholders, book keepers, assets, managers, and the like, but unlike most air charter operations, Nightingale Aero Charters catered to wizards, witches, and other magical beings.

Some of its practices were unorthodox, to say the least. Unlike many air charter companies, Nightingale Aero Charters' crew briefings not only covered their aircraft, weather conditions, and their itineraries, but also their passengers.

This morning's briefing took place in a bland-looking conference room in Nightingale Aero Charter's main hanger. Leila Wilde would be delivering it. Leila wore several hats before and during a typical Nightingale charter flight. She was not only the stewardess, but she also prepared and delivered the briefings concerning the passengers for the benefit of the rest of the air crew. Being a full-blown witch and also being well-connected to the wizarding world herself, Leila was not only knowledgeable about many of the passengers who flew on Nightingale's charter flights, but was also well conversant with the wizarding world's idiosyncratic mores. She also served as a sort of interface between the pilot and co-pilot and the passengers during the not-so-frequent times when such contacts were needed.

Daedalus Coombs would be flying the aircraft. Like Leila, Daedalus was the offspring of a family of mixed-blood wizards and witches. Unlike Leila, he was a Squib. Most of Daedalus's family was magical, but every generation or so, one or more of their offspring were born squibs. Daedalus had originally been named Icarus, but had changed his name after reaching his majority and realizing that his dream of becoming a pilot could come true after all. After spending over a decade as a fighter pilot in Britain's Royal Air Force, he left the military and had then been recruited by Nightingale Aero Charters as a commercial pilot. Daedalus continued to have good relations with his parents and siblings, but he would be the first to admit that he hadn't that much contact with the magical world beyond his family.

Unlike the stewardess and the pilot, the co-pilot did not come from a magical background. Phillip Harris was the Muggle brother of a Muggle-born witch. He was the least conversant with the ins and outs of the wizarding world and the people and creatures who lived there, but for all that, he was a good pilot in his own right and Daedalus, Leila, and other more senior Nightingale employees were gently schooling him about some of the more unusual idiosyncrasies of the wizarding world. Daedalus thought that Phillip would make a fine senior officer in his own right if he would only apply himself a little harder to learning some of the ways of the wizarding world.

"So who are we ferrying today, Leila?" asked Daedalus.

"The Vedders are crossing again," said Leila. "They've flown with us before. They'll probably go looking at horses.

"Madam Crane and her daughter are also flying with us. They're probably on a shopping trip for American Indian art and artifacts."

"Mr. Morgan has flown with us before, so I expect no problem with him."

"Willow Reeve is flying to Texas along with her two children. Mrs. Reeve has flown before on commercial aircraft and, unlike many people from the wizarding world, she has gone out of her way to see to it that her offspring know about Muggle transportation."

"That's a relief," said Phillip.

There's also a Mister Martin Crowell from Derbyshire and a Ronald Wynderly. They've never flown with us before, but they've passed their ground school class and they're flown on Muggle airliners before."

"In addition, there's a Yank wizard flying solo.

Captain Coombs gave her a look that Leila had learned meant "Are we likely to have any problems with our passengers this flight?"

Leila nodded. "Which brings us to our last three passengers: Iago Hook, Arcturus Black, and their house elf," she said.

"Iago Hook graduated from Hogwarts a few years ago and is widely-traveled, both by magical and muggle means. He's flown on commercial airliners before.

"So who is Arcturus Black?" asked Phillip.

"Arcturus Black is the current head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black," said Leila. "He's nearing his ninetieth birthday. You might be interested to know that Mr. Black is also Sirius Black's grandfather."

"Sirius Black? The mass murderer and supposedly Lord What's-his-name's chief henchman? Oh, bloody wonderful," said Harris.

"He's also a first cousin once removed to Bellatrix Black Lestrange," added Leila.

"Even better," said Phillip.

"He might need to be handled gingerly, but he's not the one I'm worried about," said Leila.

"Why not?" asked Daedalus.

"He seems relatively open-minded, at least if he's treated carefully," said Leila. "Did you know that after he graduated from ground school, he went on to take our single-engine flight class?"

"He quit before the class ended, but I've heard tell that he wasn't that bad a student." She made a quirky smile. "I suppose it was all those years he'd had to fly on a broom."

"He's bringing one of his house elves," she said.

Despite the fact that he was one of the senior pilots at Nightingale Aero Charters, Phillip had but limited experience flying with sentient magical creatures in the passenger compartment. Admittedly, he'd flown centaurs across the Atlantic once or twice, but the overwhelming majority of hiss passengers had been human. Of those that weren't, the majority were had been goblins. True, Goblins tended to have unpleasant personalities, but they tended to be phlegmatic when it came to air travel. Moreover, it amused them to have humans wait on them hand and foot. Also, Goblins tended to be more knowledgeable about the principles and practices of powered flight than most witches or wizards, even the graduates of Nightingale Aero Charter's "ground school."

He'd heard of house-elves and very much disapproved of their status. What disturbed him, though, was that unlike human slaves, most house elves had little or no desire to be free, but instead willingly chose bondage. What worried him was that house elves were even more ignorant about aviation and the Muggle world than the wizards and witches they were attached to.

Daedalus shook his head. Some of the wizards and witches he'd flown had proven extraordinarily ignorant concerning the principles of powered flight. Some could scarcely believe that a Muggle aircraft could fly without magic. Daedalus was concerned that such ignorance could have fatal consequences; one of Nightingale's charters had crashed several years ago; and Daedalus believed that one of the passengers had panicked and let loose a blast of accidental magic, destroying the the integrity of the airframe and causing the crash. Whether or not that was the real cause or if the official explanation of pilot error held true, Nightingale Aero Charters had instituted its policy of making its passengers either go through their "ground school" or demonstrate that they understood the principles of powered flight before they were allowed to fly aboard their aircraft. Nevertheless, it seemed that with many of Nightingale's passengers, instruction still went in one ear and came out the other.

"We'll just do the best we can and hope for the best," he said.

They left the conference room and the hangar to inspect the aircraft, help prepare it for flight, and greet the passengers.

"Do you have any suggestions, Daedalus?" said Phillip.

"Just one," said Daedalus. "I would ask you to be extremely polite and deferential to Mr. Black and his party. The Black family is not only a pure-blood family, but a very old family. They believe themselves to be at or near the top of the wizarding world's social pyramid."

"So they think they're better than everybody else?" said Phillip.

"Yes, to answer your question succinctly," said Daedalus.

"Surely you don't agree with them?" said Phillip.

"I suspect that Black wizards put their trousers on one leg at a time just like we do, and the job doesn't require us to approve of their attitudes," said Captain Coombs. "I'm reminding you that they exist."

"There are times like these that I don't have to worry about your penchant for skirt-chasing," said Phillip. "Fortunately, the passenger manifest says that the Black party is all male."

"So?" said Phillip.

"If there were a comely Black lass of age in this aircraft, I'd strongly advise you to keep your eyes and thoughts to yourself."

"A cat can look at a king, can't he?" said Phillip.

"That doesn't work with the younger members of some of these older pure-blood houses. The way it is with some of them isn't simply "don't look and don't touch," but "don't even look," said Daedalus.

"Are you serious? That bad?" asked Phillip.

"That bad," replied Daedalus. "I may not be as conversant with the wizarding world as Leila, but I know that much."

With that, both Phillip and Daedalus set aside the repartee and set to work starting the aircraft's pre-flight check.

Arcturus, Iago, and Creature again apported to the wretched-looking house near the edge of the airport. Arcturus was pleasantly surprised to see that its shabbiness was a glamour to fool the Muggles. The house and grounds must have had some sort of charm attached to notify the aero charter company's employees that guests had arrived at their terminal: a small van drove up minutes later, driven by a smartly-uniformed young sandy-haired man who courteously opened the van doors for them and resisted Kreacher's efforts to help load their luggage. After greeting them, the driver drove them to the entrance of Nightingale Aero Charter's private terminal building and waiting area.

The house elf did not like the airport. It was covered in tarmac and filled with unfamiliar and noisy machines. "Stupid Muggles cover the grass and hang their stupid patches with lights, noise metal trellises, and aeroplane barns," he said, adding to his sniffs of oppobrium.

The charter company had a small but pleasantly-furnished passenger lounge at the private terminal. He quickly realized that he and young Hook did not have the passenger cabin to themselves. The charter service had been created to provide alternate means of travel across the ocean for those wizards and witches of means who hated commercial air travel and several other parties were booked on the same flight. Iago noted what looked like a horse-mad witch and her daughter engrossed in both wizarding and Muggle magazines about horses. Arcturus spotted a pair of witches thumbing through a Muggle tourist guidebook and magazines about art. Arcturus overhead a couple of wizards set to do business near someplace called Dallas; they were pleasant enough company, but closed –mouth about the reasons for their journey. Iago was intrigued to see an unfriendly American wizard whom Arcturus understood to be some sort of courier for Gringott's.

The passengers eyed each other in silence, keeping their observations about each other to themselves, as Arcturus had learned was the English way not just for many wizarding folk but their Muggle counterparts as well. The silence was interrupted by the arrival of a harried-looking witch and her two noisy children, both boys. By the look of them, Arcturus supposed they were a little too young for Hogwarts. Seeing all these strange adults, the boys began to ask the other passengers who they were and where they were going. The adults' responses varied from volubility to stony silence. Arcturus relented enough to inform the boys that Kreacher was indeed a house elf and that he was flying to Dallas to drive across Texas and then look at the Muggle observatories at Fort Davis, Alamogordo, and Socorro. Their conversation was interrupted by the gate agent's announcement that their airplane was ready to board.

Kreacher eyed the small charter jet with misgivings. "Kreacher sees no reason why he should have to ride a stupid noisy Muggle airplane," Kreacher sniffed. "A stupid, noisy Muggle flying machine flown by stupid Muggles. "

"Because I need you to serve me in America," said Arcturus. "And you remember your purpose, I'm sure."

"Kreacher lives to serve the House of Black," said the house elf.

"And so you shall," said Arcturus. "By accompanying me to America and doing my bidding there."

Just as he'd done before the Grindelwald War, Arcturus had to board a ladder to enter the aircraft. And just as he'd done before, he had to duck his head when he boarded the airplane.

The air crew introduced themselves as the passengers entered the cabin. Arcturus was pleased to learn that all of them had ties to the wizarding community, so none of them would break the International Statutes of Secrecy. The pilot and co-pilot weren't wizards, but the pilot was a squib born to a mixed-blood familyand the co-pilot was the Muggle brother of a Muggle-born witch. The cabin attendant was a witch.


	4. Chapter 4

DAR NO Country Old Men Part 2B

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*

After meeting and greeting the passengers, Phillip Harris and Daedalus Coombs closed the cockpit door and resumed their preparations for take-off, assuming that the passengers weren't going to give them as much trouble as they'd feared. Many of them had already taken their seats and had buckled themselves in. Even the august head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black had taken his seat and had placed his seatbelt around his waist.

Daedalus worked his way down his pre-flight prep and checklist, ticking off each item as it appeared "go." His preparation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Captain, I'm afraid we have a problem in the passenger cabin," said Leila. "It's the house elf."

"What about him?" said Daedalus.

"The little bugger refuses to sit in a chair and get buckled up," said Leila. "He wants to sit on the floor."

Daedalus suppressed an inward sigh. He was afraid that something like this might happen. He rose reluctantly from his seat in the cockpit.

Arcturus Black had comfortably settled into one of the jet's seats. Superficially, he looked harmless, howbeit aristocratic, although Daedalus could sense well-concealed under-layers of power and danger that the old wizard had chosen to conceal.

The house elf was seated next to him on the floor.

"Good evening, Sir," said Daedalus. "I'm Daedalus Coombs and I'm the pilot."

"Good evening," returned Mr. Black.

"Sir, we need to talk about your house elf," said the pilot.

"What about Kreacher?" asked the dark wizard.

"I realize your house elf isn't human and that he'd be quite content to sit on the floor, but he does have weight and mass," said Daedalus. "He does need to be secured before take-off, just as the other passengers do and just as the air crew does. I'd rather not have him bouncing around the cabin where he could injure other passengers should we have any problems during our take off or landing or if we run into any air turbulence."

The dark wizard paused in thought. Daedalus watched him with the passive expression he'd learned in the RAF as the dark wizard seemed to think the matter over. _I know better than to pick quarrels with dark wizards and witches,_ thought Daedalus, _but I rather hope the guy is reasonable._ _The guy surely knows about air turbulence,_ he half-prayed to himself; _he's got to have been up in the air on a broom a time or two in his day._

"I see," said Arcturus.

"Could I talk to your cabin stewardess?" said Arcturus.

"Certainly, Sir," said Captain Coombs.

Leila edged around from the position she'd taken behind Captain Coombs.

Arcturus noted from the cabin stewardess' name badge that her surname was Wilde.

"Kreacher, you will follow Madam Wilde's instructions and do what she tells you," said Arcturus in a tone of voice that said he was not to be trifled with.

Kreacher looked at Arcturus with scarcely-concealed dismay at what he felt was betrayal, then nodded in assent.

"Will that be satisfactory, Madam Wilde?" said Arcturus.

"Yes, Sir," said Leila. "Thank you."

Arcturus nodded and then settled back in his chair in the fashion of a great lord settling a minor dispute between servants.

Iago watched the interplay between Arcturus Black and the air crew. He couldn't help but admire how Captain Coombs was able to persuade the Black family patriarch to compel the cantankerous house elf to place himself in the children's safety seat. The Captain was quiet, low-key, and respectful, yet showed an underlying layer of resolve that implied that if the house elf didn't sit in the safety seat, he'd abort take-off.

Leila caught the dark wizard's cue and turned her attention to the aged house elf. Captain Coombs chose that moment to return to the cockpit. The cabin stewardess produced a plastic bag containing a pair of children's underwear.

"Before you sit down, sir, I would ask you to please put these on," said Leila, looking the house elf in the eye.

"Kreacher sees no reason to put on these Muggle clothes," said the house elf.

"Because other people will be using these seats after you deplane and I don't care to have them deal with any stray house-elf poo," said Leila.

Kreacher took the underwear out of the packet and put it around his head.

"Correctly," said Leila sternly.

Kreacher scowled at her.

"I have a complete child's outfit waiting if I don't see a little more co-operation on your part," said Leila. "So far I'm only asking you to put on undershorts. Do you care to up the ante to socks and a tee shirt?"

Kreacher looked plaintively at Arcturus, who frowned back in disapproval at the house elf. Reluctantly, the house elf took the undershorts off his head and sullenly put them correctly beneath his tea towel.

Kreacher gave a double-sniff of disgust. "Kreacher hates these filthy Muggle clothes and wishes to remain in his tea-towel," he said.

"You're still wearing your tea-towel," said Leila, in the tone of a mother dealing with a difficult child, "although that could change."

Leila went to the back of the passenger cabin and came back with what Iago recognized as a Muggle-style child's safety seat. Iago noted that she carefully laid out the restraints so that Kreacher couldn't inadvertently cover the restraints when he sat down in the carrier. Clearly she wasn't expecting co-operation.

"You will please be seated in the child carrier," said the stewardess.

Kreacher looked at the stewardess of almost total disbelief, then at Arcturus. The house elf saw Arcturus' expression and resignedly sat down in the child's safety seat.

"Filthy mud-blooded servants presume to tell Kreacher where and how to sit," said Kreacher, ignoring the dirty looks Kreacher attracted from the flight attendant and the equestriennes.

Iago turned around to watch as Kreacher sat down in the child's safety seat with bad grace. The cabin attendant got on her knees and buckled him in. Iago decided that despite the fact that she probably had fifteen years on him, she still possessed a fine figure. Arcturus Black looked thoughtful, but decided to remain at his seat by the window. He and Iago watched with bemusement as she lifted the child's safety seat and set it on the passenger aisle seat next to the dark wizard, then buckled it down so it would stay put.

After the cabin stewardess buckled Kreacher and his carrier onto the seat, she stood up again and nodded in closed-mouth satisfaction.

Iago saw that the cabin attendant had obviously been intimidated by the aged wizard and his status in Britain's magical world but was nevertheless determined to do her job. Once she had the upper hand on the house elf, however, she was able to get him to follow her instructions much like a mother or teacher dealing with an unruly child.

The cabin was now cleared for take-off. She then read the usual Muggle-style airline passenger safety briefing concerning seat belts, airplane exits and how to find them, how to exit the aircraft Muggle-style, the location and use of life jackets, and location of the life raft. Iago looked puzzled for a moment; had the cabin attendant forgotten that the passengers were all wizards and witches?

She hadn't. "Thus concludes the official Muggle briefing," she said. "Should this aircraft come to grief, I want everyone who can to prepare to apport out the aircraft and bring out those who are either too injured or incapable of evacuating the aircraft themselves."

With that, Madam Wilde went to the front of the aircraft and buckled herself in.

Iago wondered why she would sit at the front of the aircraft instead of the rear like most Muggle flights he'd been on and then remembered: the pilot and co-pilot weren't wizards. They couldn't apport out.

The jet's engines revved up and the aircraft began to move forward down the taxiway. The small jet moved away from the small private terminal and down a taxiway leading to the main runway. It didn't move very far or very fast, but Iago was certain that they'd be taking off soon.

Iago spotted a couple of large Muggle passenger jets on adjacent taxiways awaiting their turns to take off from his window seat..

"I think we'll be the next to take off after that Virgin passenger jet takes off," said Iago.

The Muggle commercial jet took off, and the charter moved into its position at the end of the runway. The engines revved up again, only this time with more power than the pilot had used on the taxiway. Arcturus felt the jet engines roar louder as the small jet moved faster and faster and faster, and then with a slight bob and recovery, began to be airborne.

Iago had been on Muggle commercial jets where most of the passengers took the takeoff in silence. He was surprised and delighted when he discovered that wasn't the case with wizarding passengers. Not was it true, here. . The mother and her two children's whoops of glee counterbalanced Kreacher's loud moan of distress as the aircraft's wheels left the runway and the small jet took flight.

"Is this stupid Muggle machine still on the ground?" said Kreacher.

"Actually, no," said Iago. "We're airborne."

The charter jet banked and set a course for the Atlantic Ocean.

The pilot said nothing over the aircraft's announcement system. Iago supposed that he had his hands ful setting a course across the sea and dodging the other Muggle aircraft buzzing around this airport and any other Muggle airports in the vicinity.

He sat back to wait. In due course, the clouds parted and Iago saw that they had left England behind them and were now over open water.

"Are we there yet?" asked Kreacher.


	5. Chapter 5

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

"Are we there yet?" asked Kreacher.

"No, we have several hours to go," said Iago, looking at his watch.

Captain Coombs began to relax after his aircraft was clear of the dense air traffic surrounding the British Isles major airports. He and co-pilot Phillip Harris had all they could do keeping an eye out for other aircraft and obeying the flight controllers' instructions until the aircraft was well out to sea. The other passengers were settling down. Leila hadn't mentioned any problems from the passenger cabin, so he gave Leila permission to start the in-flight movie.

About an hour out of Britain, the cabin attendant announced that they'd have in-flight entertainment.

"What does she mean by that?" asked Arcturus. "Is Madam Wilde going to sing for us, or invite us all to play a game of charades?"

"No, I think they're going to do what most commercial airlines do at this point," said Iago. "They'll probably play a movie."

""Will they play the sound through speakers like they do at the Muggle cinema?" asked arcturus.

"No, they'll probably use headphones," said Iago. "Here, let me show you how they work."

The movie was preceded by a short video covering tourist sights popular with both Muggles and magical folk alike, then started.

"Hmm," said Iago. "A Merchant Ivory film. My grandmother says that their stuff is usually less offensive than most."

Arcturus wasn't so sure he agreed with Iago's sentiment when the movie was over. He grudgingly conceded to himself that A Room With A View was a beautiful movie. The actors and actresses were attractive and talented. He was bemused to see that the actress who played Lucy Honeychurch bore an uncommon resemblance to Bellatrix in her younger years. For some reason he wasn't aware of at first, the plot of the movie chaffed at something inside of him..

Some of the plot background was surprising. He didn't realize that at least parts of Muggle society, at least Muggle society as it was in his youth, resembled its wizarding counterpart. He'd grown up in a society that was not only extremely conscious about blood purity but also about social status, and took the practice of arranged marriages for granted. So, apparently, did some Muggles, at least before the First Great Muggle War.

He watched the deepening love and attraction between Lucy and George Emerson grow and watched as they ran away together from their families and respectable society..

Still, Lucy Honeychurch's elopement with George Emerson somehow raised his hackles. He wondered why; it wasn't simply that he didn't approve of the girl defying her family's expectation and eloping with George Emerson. There was more to it than that. He then realized the similarity in his own life; young Andromeda defying a brokered marriage to elope with that wretched Muggle-born wizard Ted Tonks.

The movie ended. Some sort of programme began, a pair of wizards dressed like Muggles talking about topics about which he could care less.

"What now?" said Arcturus. "I don't care to listen to this blather for the rest of this flight."

"You can change the channel and listen to music, if you like," said Iago.

After a bit of fumbling and a little assistance from Madam Wilde, Arcturus found the channel controls. After accidentally encountering three channels of raucous popular music, one channel of dreadful love ballads, and three sports channels, one wizard-oriented, the other two Muggle, Arcturus happened on one that played classical music. The pieces chosen were ordered, melodic, and calming. He smiled, approving the selections, even when the Slytherin part of his mind said that Nightingale Charters probably chose pieces that were likely to calm its passengers.

He chose to relax and lose himself in the music. There wasn't that much he could do, and this was going to be a long flight—seven hours, a refueling stop, then four to five more hours to Dallas—Fort Worth International Airport.

His enjoyment was interrupted by Iago tugging him on his sleeve.

"What is it, young Hook?" said Arcturus.

"An argument," said Iago, glancing towards the back of the passenger cabin.

Arcturus turned around in his seat and saw that the cabin attendant was arguing with his house elf.

"It is Kreacher's job to serve wizards and witches," the house elf said, "not that of witches. Madam should sit down while Kreacher serves and clears."

"No, sirrah, this is _**my**_ job," said Madam Wilde. "I am aircrew."

"I have trained not only to serve my customers properly, but I know where everything is stored and how to put it away again," she added. "You don't."

"it is traditional for house elves to," Kreacher began unctuously.

"Which as may be," Madam Wilde cut in, "but this is a Muggle-built aircraft. The rules are different here. You may wish to serve, Master House Elf, but you aren't trained for it. You'd only be in the way."

Arcturus decided that it was time to intervene.

"Kreacher, return to your seat," he said.

The house elf sullenly climbed back into his child carrier and stayed there sulking while Madam Wilde served a light meal.

Arcturus actually enjoyed his meal. While it wasn't the height of haut cuisine, it was not only well above what Muggles and wizards alike called pub food, but what Muggles often doled out at many of their hotels. Clearly Nightingale Aero Charters wanted its clients well-treated, well-fed, and eager to use their services again on some future occasion.

He wondered what the case was with Muggle airline passengers, then smiled. They almost certainly had it far worse.

His meal finished, Arcturus looked around the cabin. The equestriennes had dug out their horse magazines and were discussing which horse breeders they'd like to visit. The American courier-wizard was reading a thick paperback of some sort. The two boys were growing restless. After Madam Wilde cleared away the meal, he picked up his guidebook and read for a while.

He looked up to see Iago flirting with Madam Crane and her daughter. He rose from his seat and went over to join him. Both women were enthusiastic and voluable. They were first going to Dallas and Fort Worth to visit an exhibition and a couple of area galleries, then they were thinking of making a side trip to New Mexico.

When Arcturus mentioned that he was thinking of visiting Santa Fe and Albuquerque, Madam Crane and her daughter were upon him like she-wolves bringing down a lagging stag. Both of them scoffed at the art selection in Albuquerque, telling him that he'd be better off visiting Taos instead. Both women inundated him with the names of galleries sited in the center of Santa Fe as well as along Canyon Road, what styles of art they sold, the names of dealers, the names of artists and which galleries gave the best prices.

They were about to give him an equally-intense briefing on Taos when he gently begged off. He returned to his seat in bemusement.

Madam Wilde then got on what Muggles called the public address system and announced that they'd be showing another movie.

This one was called _**Ran**_. To his surprise, _**Ran**_ was not American or British, but was Japanese. It was directed by Akira Kurosawa, a director that Arcturus had never heard of. He soon found himself lost in the shapes and colors and forms of Japan, the island nation so very different from Britain.

As the film progressed, Arcturus realized just how much the story resembled Shakespeare's _King Lear_. He watched as the old warlord banished his younger son just as Lear had banished Cordelia, the sons turning against the father, the middle son turning against his brother, concubines stabbing each other as their lords' castles fell, and armies of medieval Japanese warriors fighting each other. In place of a Goneril, there was a Lady Shue who, unlike Goneril, had genuine reason for grievance. Nearly three hours later, everything ended as the Shakespeare story, with the last castle sacked and most of the principals dead.

After the film ended, he realized that he'd been quite moved. The imagery and acting was amazing, the landscapes were beautiful and the costumes stunning. Thinking about Japan, Arcturus remembered that Iago had actually been there. He'd have to talk about Japan and the movie with the younger wizard after the flight was over.

When the movie ended, Captain Coombs invited passengers to step into the cockpit. Most of the passengers had either looked before on previous flights or had found the cockpit uninteresting. Despite the adults' indifference, both of the Reeves boys leaped at the opportunity. Fortunately, both were moderately well-behaved: they exclaimed in joy and wonder, they asked dozens of questions, but they didn't try to flip switches or take the controls.

To Coombs' surprise, the next magical person to visit was no less than Arcturus Black himself. The wizard was intrigued by the dials, switches, and controls in the cockpit. Clearly flying a passenger jet was even more complicated than the simple single-engine propeller plane he had been preparing to fly prior to his trip across the ocean. It was even more intriguing now that he knew what some of these dials and gauges actually showed and what some of these switches and controls actually did.

He glanced at the altimeter. The charter jet was flying at an altitude of 33000 feet. That was certainly higher than he'd ever flown on a broom.

"I've never been this high up before," said Arcturus.

"How high do you ever get, sir?" asked Captain Coombs.

"I'm not sure," said Arcturus. "High enough to get bloody cold and short of breath. I never knew how high, but just high enough to be have difficulty breathing."

-He remembered when he was young, almost everyone in his circle of friends dreamed of taking their broomsticks as high as they could go. He'd given in to temptation and took his his Comet-Chaser as high as he could go. He was never too sure how high he got; most wizards hadn't been in the habit of carrying altimeters before the First Great Muggle War, but he remembered that bitter cold, the powerful, tricky winds, and that he found it difficult to breathe. Something told him that he'd gone too high and too far for his own good, and he reluctantly descended to a much safer altitude.

He'd been one of the lucky ones. A couple of his peers had also tried to fly even higher and died. One's body was later found by a Muggle farmer; he must have passed out and fell off his broom somewhere. The other one's body was never found at all.

"Brave man," said Captain Coombs. "I wouldn't want to go that high without a cockpit around me and an oxygen mask."

Arcturus was about to say something else when Captain Coombs raised up his hand in a gesture no one dared make to him since he'd become head of the family.

"Excuse me, Sir," said Captain Coombs. Arcturus could see that Captain Coombs was listening to what was probably an important radio message. Arcturus noted that the pilot's expression changed to a frown; whatever Captain Coombs heard on his headset was not good news.

"I'm going to have to ask you to return to your seat, Sir," said Captain Coombs. "I've just gotten a report of some air turbulence coming up and you and your party are going to need to buckle up. That includes your house-elf. I'll be making a general announcement to the rest of the passengers in a couple of moments."

Arcturus went back to his seat feeling concerned. He called Kreacher, where he'd been admiring the patterns of light from the stars reflecting on the water far, far below, and told him to get into his seat.

"Iago, I'd ask you to help Kreacher buckle down," said Arcturus. "The pilot said we're coming up on some rough weather."

Madam Wilde came on the public address system a couple of minutes later and told the passengers to return to their seats and fasten their seat belts.

Arcturus and the other passengers soon learned that the cabin stewardess' warning was timely. Something buffeted the aircraft a couple of minutes later and shoved it to the left.

A few moments later, the plane was smacked downwards, then rose again as it flew through an updraft. The jet rose, then fell again, and then was buffeted side to side by more storm wind.

The tension in the passenger cabin rose as the plane flew through the turbulence. Kreacher worked hard not to whimper. Arcturus gave in to the temptation of legilimency and decided to look in on the minds of the men in the cockpit. He suspected that he wasn't the only magical who did so. He was relieved to discover that while the pilot and co-pilot were concerned, they were a long way from terror or panic.

Arcturus decided to leave them to their job. After several more bumps and dips, the rough weather began to diminish and the jet began to fly a level course again. Arcturus remembered that the Captain seemed quite competent when he'd visited the cockpit a short while ago; he hoped that he'd guessed correctly. His musings were interrupted by the captain speaking over the charter jet's public announcement speaker.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the captain speaking," said Captain Coombs. "We are encountering some rough wind, but we will be detouring around the worst of it. Unfortunately, this means we will need to stop in Bermuda to refuel."

They were still flying between storm clouds but Arcturus began to see a break. The plane flew on for an hour and a half, then Arcturus felt the plane begin to descend.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be landing shortly," said Madam Wilde. "Please fold your tray table and bring your seats back up to the full upright position in preparation for landing."

He heard the sound of machinery and doors opening and assumed, like his long-ago trip before the Grindelwald War, that the landing gear must be deploying.

He felt the plane gently go lower and lower and lower. He didn't sense any panic from the other passengers or from the cockpit. The charter jet's wheels touched the runway and the jet's engines revved up to power the airbrakes. As the plane slowed to a stop, he heard other passengers begin to applaud. Amused, he decided to join in.

It was dark outside and the aged wizard couldn't see very much outside the aircraft. "So these are the still-vexed Bermoothes?" thought Arcturus to himself.

"Are we there yet?" asked Kreacher.


	6. Chapter 6

Daria Ravenclaw No Country For Unpleasant Old Men

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Arcturus had expected the charter jet to land, refuel, and take off again. Neither he nor the other passengers expected a private Muggle aircraft to pancake on the runway and close it for several hours. Captain Coombs gave the news to the passengers over the charter craft's public address system. That their takeoff would be delayed. Like their well-bred Muggle counterparts, the adult wizarding folk received the news in silence; only the Reeve children vocalized their disappointment. Nevertheless, an air of gloom and disappointment filled the passenger cabin.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Arcturus asked Madam Crane. "I hadn't flown since before the Grindelwald War broke out."

"Thank Hecate, no," replied the witch. "Muggle air travel tends to be time-consuming, irritating, boring, but relatively safe."

The jet taxied to the civil air terminal. Unlike their common carrier counterparts, the management of Nightingale Aero Charters knew better than to keep their passengers confined to the passenger cabin while the airport administration ponderously sorted things out.

Most of the other wizards and witches rose to deplane as the cabin door opened and they were able to descend from the charter jet. Arcturus remained behind; even with young Hooke to assist him, descending with a house elf in a Muggle child's safety seat was a more ponderous affair than simply rising and walking to the exit. Leila Wilde lingered, then approached Arcturus' seat after the other passengers left.

"Lord Black," said the cabin stewardess. "May I borrow the services of your house elf for a while?"

It took Arcturus less than a second to make a decision. "By all means," he said.

"Kreacher, you are under Madam Wilde's supervision and will follow her instructions until you are in your seat again and the aeroplane takes off again."

Kreacher looked balefully at the cabin stewardess and replied, "As Master Arcturus commands."

Now that the aircraft was safely on the ground, Madam Wilde felt no compunction to refrain from using a little magic. She used her wand to flick open Kreacher's restraints, then led the house elf to the aircraft's small galley and finding things for him to carry.

Arcturus and Iago meanwhile rose and followed the other wizards and witches through a doorway leading into the passenger terminal. There, the witches and wizards, having satisfied the letter of Muggle airport security regulations by obediently filing into the waiting area set aside for passengers cleared for flight by the Muggle customs authorities, set about flouting those regulations both by letter and spirit. While Iago and some of the other witches and wizards used the opportunity to use the Muggle telephones to contact friends, relatives, and business associates to inform them that they would be arriving later, other wizards and witches apported to St. George's and Hamilton in search of coffee or an early morning meal. Most returned within an hour and a half, disappointed by the fact that it was still the very early morning in Bermuda and that most shops and cafes were closed.

Arcturus was not one of those passengers who filed out. He was tired, but not so tired as to doze off quite yet. He watched amusedly as Kreacher followed Madam Wilde through the gateway a couple of minutes later carrying a couple of thermoses and Muggle-style coffee cups, then assisted Madam Wilde in dispensing coffee and tea to any member of the charter flight's passenger and crew in the waiting area. Kreacher served coffee with a mixture of faux humility mixed with an air of superiority which irritated a couple of the younger passengers but caused a couple of the older onesto perform silent mental gymnastics to keep themselves from bursting out laughing.

.

He must have dozed off sometime after that; he found himself being nudged awake a bit later by Iago.

"All done, Sir," said Iago. "We'll still have a rental car in Dallas and a hotel room awaiting us in Highland."

"I've a mind to watch the sunrise. This is the first time I've ever seen the sun rising from this side of the Atlantic. There's supposed to be a roadway near St. David's lighthouse south and east of the airport that has a good view of the ocean. Do you care to come along?"

The old wizard thought about it and agreed. Madam Wilde handed out a small charm that would beging vibrating to warn them that the plane would be boarding again and they should return to the aircraft.

Arcturus and Iago apported to the side of a road not far from the beach and an unfamiliar lighthouse. The wind was blowing in from the ocean and Arcturus could smell the scent of the ocean. They walked along for a while and watched the sun come up over the waves. Arcturus could now accept that he'd come to a new world, an unfamiliar one. Bermuda might be an overseas territory, but England was thousands of miles away across the sea.

As the sun rose higher, the day grew a little warmer. Arcturus could feel Madam Wilde's charm begin to vibrate in his pocket. He and Iago apported back to the passenger terminal, where most of the passengers were either on the edges of their chairs or had risen to their feet. Kreacher was already standing with an expression of self-importance, carrying a sack with the thermoses and some unused coffee cups.

Arcturus expected that Captain Coombs and Madam Wilde would have them reboard their aircraft and that they'd leave in short order, but was disappointed. He filled the time by perusing a magazine about the Second Great Muggle War that one of the other wizards had left on a seat. He'd remembered parts of it during the Grindelwald War; the continual clashing between the German Muggles and the Allied Muggles had created numerous hazards that killed and maimed more than a few witches and wizards before they'd gotten within wand-point of Grindelwald and his followers. He found the magazine's reminder that the American Muggles could project huge quantities of men and materiel over vast distances was extremely unsettling for reasons he hadn't thought about since the war ended over forty years ago. He suspected that the Americans probably still had the capability to repeat such a feat or, if their capacity had diminished, it hadn't diminished by much.

The second reboarding and take-off was anti-climactic. Everyone knew the routine, and Kreacher quietly complied with being strapped into his carrier. The aircraft powered up again and moved towards the airport's runway. The charter jet did have to wait its turn to take off behind a couple of large four-engined military aircraft marked NAVY. Arcturus remembered just enough from the First and Second Great Muggle Wars to know that the British Muggles used blue and white roundels with a large red dot in the center.

"Whose and what are those?" said Arcturus.

"Those are Muggle military aircraft of some sort," said Iago. "I think they belong to the Americans."

The reminder that American Muggles could extend their military power here and to Europe again made Arcturus very uncomfortable. Despite his wizarding upbringing, in his youth he'd imbibed the Muggles' belief that Britain ruled the waves, even though the end of the First Great Muggle War the year after he graduated from Hogwarts had shown him that this might not be quite so true as it was in his boyhood. That the American Muggles had such a presence on Bermuda, not to mention back home in Britain, was unsettling, to say the least.

Kreacher looked out the window at the bevy of Muggle trucks and emergency vehicles still parked at the side of the runway and muttered darkly about stupid Muggles and their stupid, dangerous Muggle flying machines.

The jet revved up its engines and took off. One of the Reeve children again whooped in delight; the other was too tired and looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. Kreacher, though, was silent.

Arcturus dozed off shortly after take-off and as the islands of Bermuda receded behind them. He awoke again, checked his pocket watch, and discovered that he'd slept nearly four hours. He reproached himself for sleeping; he'd meant to get a glimpse of the eastern part of North American while he was flying over it and had slept through his opportunity.

He looked out and down at the terrain far below. The landscape below was green, but not as green as that of England, so many hours and so many miles behind them. Arcturus saw the square patches of farmland, Muggle roadways, and clumps of Muggle housing estates.

Madam Wilde informed them that they would be landing near Dallas within the hour, and then passed out pens and papers. These were Muggle customs and immigration forms which, since the magical passengers were passing as Muggles, they would have to fill out, too. Arcturus irritably began to fill out the forms. He wrote "retired" as his occupation and gave the Muggle mailing address he used for his postage.

The jet began its descent into the private airport. Just as they'd been told what to expect back at Nightingale Areo Charters' "ground school" and as they'd experienced in Bermuda, they felt the slight falling sensation and the pressure changes in their ears as the aircraft began to descend from cruising altitude into a landing pattern.

The pilot landed the small jet on the runway with a gentle thump and applied the air brakes to slow it down to taxiing speed. Arcturus, Iago, and some of the other wizards and witches in the passenger cabin applauded.

It didn't take long for the jet to come to a stop so they could debark. He'd known in advance that this was a separate executive airport terminal and that the jet would park much sooner than was the case with muggle commercial airliners.

Madam Wilde told the passengers to please wait until the charter jet came to a complete stop. She thanked the passengers for flying with Nightingale Aero Charters and then announced that she had a special gift for their very special passenger. The Reeves children bucked up attentively, but were crushed to see that Kreacher, not they, would be the recipient. It was a brass pin that said Junior Pilot.

Kreacher shot the cabin stewardess a look of disapproval. "Kreacher doesn't want the Muggle trinket," he said testily.

"Which as may be," said Arcturus with a quirky smile, "But it becomes you. Put it on." His tone of voice said that he would not accept dispute.

"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, who reluctantly pinned it on his new tea-towel.


	7. Chapter 7

DAR No Country For Unpleasant Old Men Customs and Immigration

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

One of the reasons many witches and wizards used charter services like Nightingale Aero Charters was because the customs agents at the airports they served abroad weren't nearly as alert or thorough as the ones at other air terminals used mainly by Muggles. Arcturus and Iago quickly learned that what wasn't included in the advertising brochure was while the US Customs and Immigration agents might not have been especially alert or attentive, their counterparts from MACUSA were there to make up the difference. Expecting to slip through customs, Arcturus and Iago only learned of their mistake when a younger man with African features and a New York accent and an older male with a tan and close-cropped hair in customs agent uniforms showed glowing badges and said quietly: "Mr. Black, Mr. Hook, this way please?"

Arcturus and Iago had the same thought. Clearly these agents worked for MACUSA, not the American Muggle government. They followed the two American wizards through an inconspicuous door off the corridor into a small side room off to the left. Arcturus noted that the room wasn't completely Spartan; the seal of the MACUSA was embossed on the wall. Clever b**g**s, thought Arcturus, they not only fooled the Muggles doing similar jobs nearby but wizards like him, too. There was also a very sturdy table with a long, flat, cloudy crystal resting on top of it.

"Could you show us your wands, please?"" said one of the agents. He wore a name tag that said his name was Bolingbrooke.

"May I ask why?" said Arcturus, suddenly on alert.

"We register wands here," said Bolingbrooke. "If you wish to enter the USA or Canada, you'll have to register your wand."

Iago hadn't expected this. He'd assumed that a wizard's or a witch's wand was his or her business, unless they'd been accused of a criminal offense; that was the way it was done in Britain and on the continent. But it looked like MACUSA had other ideas. He slowly and carefully drew his wand and resignedly handed it off to Bolingbrooke.

Iago was fairly certain he'd be cleared to enter the US. He was far less certain about Lord Black. He knew that Lord Black was a skilled and experienced dark wizard; who knew what sorts of spells he'd cast. What if they'd got separated? He hadn't planned for this eventuality. He reproached himself for this oversight and told himself that if the Americans denied Lord Black entry, he'd accompany him and Kreacher back to Britain.

The other agent handed Iago a couple of forms printed on Muggle-style legal paper and a couple of other forms with holes in it printed on thick, letter-sized paper.

"Could you fill out these forms, please?" said the other agent.

"Here's a Muggle ballpoint pen," said the agent. They work better with the forms and punch-cards than quills."

Iago resignedly set to filling out the duplicate forms on Muggle-style legal-sized paper, then bemusedly started filling out the information printed on the Muggle-style punch-cards he'd also been handed. How, for Merlin's sake, did the Americans use Muggle things like punch-cards?

Bolingbrooke placed Iago's wand on top of a large crystal block and ran his wand over it. Iago's wand glowed briefly, but Bolingbrooke said nothing. Iago worriedly remembered a couple of spells he'd used to extricate himself out of a couple of dodgy situations in eastern Europe, Mali and the Sudan, but he hadn't used any of the three unforgivable curses. Apparently he passed muster, because Agent Bolingbrooke gave him back his wand.

"Through the door to your right," said Agent Bolingbrooke. Iago looked at Lord Black, who looked back at him with a nod and gesture towards the door Bolingbrooke had pointed out.

"I'll be joining you shortly," he said.

Arcturus carefully drew his wand and handed it over to Agent Bolingbrooke. Agent Bolingbrooke placed Arcturus' wand on the larger crystal. He then ran ran his wand over Arcturus', and frowned.

There are some very dark curses here, Mr. Black," said Bolingbrooke. "Care to explain them?"

"I served in the Grindelwald War," said Arcturus, slowly and very carefully drawing out the parchment showing that he'd been a veteran. He'd had to show the parchment a few times when he visited the Continent, but he hadn't had to produce it for years.

"Is there a problem?" asked Arcturus placidly.

"Sir, could you wait here for a moment?" said Agent Bolingbrooke, who touched a small crystal that looked much like a convex ashtray. An older witch and a house elf entered through another door that Arcturus hadn't noticed.

Agent Bolingbrooke quickly explained that the English wizard Arcturus Black had a wand with some very dark curses in it and that he claimed to have been a veteran of the Grindelwald War over four decades ago. The witch, presumably Bolingbrooke's supervisor, informed him that they'd have to call Washington to check out Mr. Black's parchment's authenticity.

"There may be," Agent Bolingbrooke said to Mr. Black. "Could you please follow me?"

Arcturus followed the agents through the door to his left. He thought of apparating out, but suspected that MACUSA had installed some powerful charms preventing wizards and witches from apparating away.

He found himself in a windowless waiting area, sparsely furnished, but with a couple of low tables and padded chairs. The only wall decorations were a MACUSA seal and a travel poster welcoming him to the USA. He sat himself in one of the chairs; Kreacher chose to remain standing next to him.

Arcturus noted with dismay and annoyance that they didn't leave him alone. A third wizard, one that Arcturus had never seen before, sat down on a chair opposite him on the far side of the room. The house elf seated himself two chairs over. The American house-elf was almost as naked as the day he was born except for a breach-clout, a sash with his MACUSA badge and a waist belt containing a pouch.

The door opened again and Iago came in, accompanied by the second wizard, who waved him over to a seat next to Arcturus. Arcturus looked his traveling companion as if to ask "Do you have your wand with you?". Iago understood the gesture and shook his head. No. He sat down to wait with Arcturus.

The American house elf's presence and demeanor raised Kreacher's ire. "That a masterless elf would dare raise his hand against the head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," he began.

The American house elf looked right back at Kreacher and said "Put a sock in it, Bub."

Iago noted that the American wizard's face began to twitch in a smile at the American house elf's remark, then lapse back into expressionless alertness.

With that, Kreacher was left to glare at the American house elf in outrage while his American counterpart watched him in cold alertness.

Arcturus irritably looked over the forms he'd been given and was still holding. He thought unpleasant thoughts about republican ideals and decided that republican government was designed to have both its high- and low-born citizens waste their time filling out forms for bureaucrats.

Bollingbrooke came back about an hour later. He stopped to pick up Arcturus' completed form and nodded in his direction.

"Your documentation checks out. You're now cleared and can enter the country," he said.

Arcturus rose to go when Agent Bolingbrooke spoke again.

"Mr. Black, if I may ask, where were you during the Gindelwald War? My father was in a support unit in Germany during the Big One."

"In Britain, then in France, Alsace—Lorraine, and then finally in the German Alps," said Arcturus. "Was your father a wizard?"

"No, sir," said Mr. Bolingbrooke. "He was a sergeant in a supply unit in the American Army. I do remember him telling me that he'd been in eastern France near the German border."

Arcturus remembered trudging along on patrol with several other wizards in Alsace during the winter of 1944-45, hoping that they wouldn't be ambushed by Grindelwald hold-outs, step on Muggle land-mines, or being run down by Muggle supply trucks. He remembered being passed by and splattered on by military supply convoys and that many of the American trucks were driven by men with African features.

Arcturus thought about this discovery and decided to reply. He might well have seen Bolingbrooke's father and not known it. It would do little harm to say so.

"I might very well have seen your father and not known it," Arcturus replied. "I remember the supply trucks very well."

"Thank you, sir," said Agent Bolingbrooke. "And welcome to the United States."


	8. Chapter 8

DAR No Country For Unpleasant Old Men

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Arcturus and Iago quickly retrieved their luggage from MACUSA's customs service. Despite the fuss that MACUSA's immigration agents had made about Arcturus' wand, MACUSA had given his luggage only perfunctory attention. Just as well, thought Arcturus; he had brought a couple of daggers and swords along on the remote chance that he might need them. He'd transformed them into innocuous-looking objects to fool the Muggle customs officers. MACUSA's agents must have decided that it wasn't worth bothering themselves to search his and Iago's luggage and waved them through.

Iago had to telephone Nightingale Aero Charters' DFW airport office to ask them to return to the entrance nearest the Immigration and Customs office and arrange for them to pick up Arcturus and Kreacher. The shuttle bus returned to the private terminal to pick up Arcturus, Kreacher, and the luggage. They'd wait at the small private terminal; Iago would take a micro-bus to the car hire office and pick up the rental automobile.

Arcturus settled down to wait for Iago to return with the car. Kreacher had again resumed the glamour of a small boy. Arcturus looked at the Muggle war magazine again and quickly decided that he'd had enough. He then broke out one of the Muggle travel guidebooks and started reading it. He quickly learned that Highland was scarcely mentioned, and what little the guidebook had to say about it was in relation to the larger town of Midland, some thirty miles away.

One of the English wizards traveling to Dallas had given him a brochure regarding some of the fantastic animals he might see while he was in the area, saying that since he was staying within town, he wasn't likely to need it. Thumbing through it, Arcturus decided that he'd enjoy seeing a jackelope or three and describing his encounter with one to his current mistress' grand-nieces, but he'd be just as happy not to see a chupacabra or a hoop-snake.

Iago Hook exited the air terminal, walked to the curb, and started looking for the shuttle that would take him to the rental car company's office and the car he'd pick up to drive Arcturus Black across Texas. _Time to go to work again_ , he silently said to himself. He'd had little to do on this trip except to help Lord Black and his house elf board the charter jet in Britain and then alter hotel and car hire reservations when the charter jet made an unexpected landing in Bermuda. He ignored most of the Muggle passengers who'd brushed past him as well as the Muggle automobiles that drove past him without any self-consciousness. _I've adapted to the Muggle world,_ he thought wryly as he continued to scan for the right micro-bus. He saw a micro-bus or two for competing auto-hire companies, taxicabs, and shuttles to nearby hotels, but not the micro bus he wanted.

Working as a travel companion was not the career choice Iago had in mind. For that matter, he was still unsettled as to just what he wanted to do for a living. Unlike the fabulously wealthy purebloods like the Crabbes and the Malfoys, Iago knew that he'd have to seek gainful employment to support a wife and family. Still, he felt that there was still too much of the world that he wanted to see, and even if he'd become less and less able to see it on his own hook, he wasn't quite ready to settle down to what he felt would be a dull, married life within the confines of Wizarding Britain.

Iago knew that he'd be one of those generations who'd been affected by the Wizarding War, even if he'd been too young to take part in it himself. As a Slytherin at Hogwarts, he'd spent his first couple of years being bullied by older housemates for not showing full-throated enthusiasm for the Dark Lord and his programme and for not snubbing or insulting half-bloods and Muggle-borns. But while that part had ended with the Dark Lord's fall early in his fourth year, he'd spent the remainder of his time at Hogwarts as an object of suspicion and loathing by students of the other three houses merely for being a Slytherin. Oh, he'd stuck up for his house and his mates like a good Slytherin while he was still at school, but felt soiled by the fact that so many of the house built by Salazar Slytherin himself had been adherents of Lord Voldemort. Now that the war had been over for half a decade and he'd put Hogwarts behind him, he realized that he'd been one of the fortunate ones. The other side didn't massacre innocents and their families and he and his family had come out the other side of it substantially intact.

When he graduated from Hogwarts, he knew that more than anything else, he wanted to get out of Britain and away from what had been the war zone for the Wizarding War. He graduated from school knowing his mind and knew that he hated the Dark Lord's programme. But if he cursed the Dark Lord's memory and the abominations of the Pure Blood Supremacist agenda, he also knew that he disliked the self-righteous attitudes and behavior of so many self-proclaimed "adherents of the light" that opposed the Dark Lord, many of whom hadn't done so much as lift a finger in opposition while the Dark Lord and his followers terrorized Magical Britain.

An aunt's bequest gave him sufficient funds to allow him to start traveling abroad within months of his graduation, first to the Continent, then to Asia Minor and North Africa. It was now the better part of three years later, and to the scandal of his parents, he'd spent most of his inheritance from Aunt Maeve. At first he'd traveled at the better hotels, Muggle and wizarding, and ate at the better restaurants. He'd noticed that his money was dwindling faster than his list of places he'd like to see and visit and he thought he'd have to stop and settle down. That was nearly two years ago. One of his lovers, a half-blood from Austria who spoke passable English, had taught him thriftier ways to lodge and feed himself while traveling. It took him a while to learn, but as he learned, he found that he was able to stretch his money out and extend his travels further.

As Iago traveled, the more he came into contact with Muggles and began to learn some of the ways of the Muggle world. He'd kept apart from Muggles while at Hogwarts. He didn't know any, any Muggle relations he had were at least two generations removed, and even after the Dark Lord's downfall, he'd continued to avoid dealing with them out of habit. He began to realize that he'd been limiting himself as he started traveling about and began to run into old schoolmates from other houses who still had ties to Muggle relatives or even Muggle family friends. Using his charm on his schoolmates' Muggle relations, Iago learned how Muggles went about and did things when they traveled and shopped and when they sought to communicate with each other. One of them taught him how to use telephones. Another of him taught him the ins and out of Muggle money, the purpose of charge cards and how to use them, and basic Muggle economics.

Iago was still at a loss as to what he wanted to do for a living. He knew he had to do something to keep body and soul together, and even if he stopped wandering and settled down, he'd not have enough to live on, let alone support a wife and family. Despite the end of the Wizarding War and the deaths of so many wizards and witches, jobs were scarce in the wizarding world. He'd started keeping a travel journal, although he hadn't a clue what, if anything, he could do with it. The brother of a Ravenclaw schoolmate attended Muggle university, encouraged him to write articles for the travel sections of Witch Weekly and the Celtic Times, proof-read them, and gave him pointers on his writing skills and how to write to appeal to different literary markets. He'd even been paid for two of his articles, although the pay had been negligible. He feared that he'd be one of those people who wrote for their own pleasure, but had to do something else for a living.

Despite his discontent with the insular and inward-looking nature of the British wizarding world, Iago was not immune to the call of love. He had a couple of brief affairs, then been seriously smitten by a Ravenclaw girl. That affair had been intense enough that he gave serious thought to marrying her, despite her mixed-blood status and the fact that her pure-blood relatives were only status purebloods. He'd thought his parents would disapprove, but to his surprise, they didn't; they would have welcomed Cora Chapelle as a daughter-in-law. But despite his parents' approval, Iago's and Cora's relationship ran aground on a number of rocks, not the least of which her family opposed it, both because he hadn't settled down and because of their strong suspicion that a Slytherin of his blood status could be nothing but a Death-eater sympathizer. They broke up in tears and they went their separate ways. He'd had other affairs since then, but he still missed her.

He resumed traveling after their break-up. A win at a Muggle lottery helped finance it. That was when he traveled all the way to East Asia, visiting Muggle and magical sites and destinations in Japan, China, and South Korea. T he money grew short and Iago had to leave the East behind him.

Iago returned to Britain and discovered that his skills in navigating the Muggle as well as magical worlds were in demand. His new role as a traveling companion started when he agreed to be a traveling companion for an elderly great-uncle of a Hufflepuff schoolmate, and helped the old man navigate the bewildering assortment of Muggle customs and gadgetry related to old castles, Muggle religious shrines, and art museums, as well as Muggle lodgings and surface transit. The second time, he agreed to be a travelling companion for a Slytherin who'd graduated the year before him and her grandmother, this time, traveling through Iberia and ending up in Lisbon.

He'd made several more such trips since then, generally to the Continent, and more often than not to Central and Eastern Europe. He of course had learned how to drive Muggle automobiles, became adept at making hotel and airline reservations, and lately had learned how to arrange for his clients to book spaces on those charter flights catering to those better-off wizards and witches who would rather share the cramped quarters of commercial airline cabins with Muggles.

Yet despite the fact that his services were in demand, he was forced to confront the fact that there wasn't enough of a demand for his services that he could earn his keep as a travelling companion. Unlike Muggle wars, which consumed young and fit males, wizarding wars devastated the ranks of wizards and witches of all ages, particularly the adults. A lot of the age cohorts that would have been his clientele had been first devastated by the Grindelwald War, then winnowed further by the Wizarding War.

Iago thought his traveling days were about done and that it was time to shutter his impromptu business when his great-uncle sounded him out a fortnight later as to whether he'd be willing to accompany Arcturus Black to America. Iago was surprised to learn that his great-uncle was a friend, howbeit not a close one, with Arcturus Black and had heard a little about his travels. His great-uncle and the current head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black had gone to school together and remained friendly. His great-uncle then told him that the elder Black wished to travel to America and needed a traveling companion, one not only familiar with the wizarding ways of travel, but with those of the Muggle world, too.

After some hesitation, Iago agreed to meet with the old wizard. He was relieved after he'd talked with the older wizard and asked him about where he wished to travel to and what he wanted to do while he was there. Lord Black turned out to be far more reasonable than he'd expected a family that had produced three Death Eaters would be; Iago had feared that the head of the House of Black was not only a doctrinaire Pure Blood Supremacist, but the sort who would vocalize and act out his biases out in the open for both wizards and muggles to see. Moreover, the old wizard had some recent experience of his own traveling in Muggle areas and wouldn't be totally helpless. Attending Nightingale Aero Charters' "ground school" with him had been another revelation. The old wizard not only lacked the smug sense of superiority possessed by somany other pure bloods, he seemed willing to learn this subject.

discover that whatever the old wizard's private thoughts might be regarding blood supremacy and the inferiority of Muggles, he was intelligent and discreet enough not to show them in public. Attending Nightingale Aero Charters' "ground school" had been another revelation. The old wizard not only lacked the smugness of so many other pure bloods, he seemed willing to learn this subject.

He'd made arrangements and discussed them with the old wizard: a charter flight to D—FW Airport, a rental car, several nights in Highland, Texas (Although Iago wondered why the old wizard would bother with such an insignificant town like Highland), a couple of nights in Alpine so the old wizard could visit the Muggle observatory at Fort Davis, a couple of nights near Alamogordo so the old wizard could visit the radio telescope near Socorro and the observatory near White Sands, followed by several days to a week poking around indian ruins and magical sites near Santa Fe and Taos. They'd probably floo back from Santa Fe to the closest floo terminal to D—FW and catch the return charter to the UK.

Despite the diversion to Bermuda, the delay, and their problems with MACUSA's customs and immigration people, Iago thought that this trip was going relatively well. Once he was able to pick up the aged wizard and his house elf, Iago expected the remainder of the trip to go much more smoothly.

.

The weather outside the air terminal bothered Arcturus. It was only April but as far as Arcturus was concerned, it was as already as warm as an early summer day in England. He began to wonder about the wisdom of wearing proper wizarding clothing as he began to perspire underneath his cloak.

Iago returned in a bit over an hour with a rental car. A Muggle couple watched incredulously as Kreacher, again wearing the glamour of a small boy, loaded their luggage into the rental car's boot. After he was settled into the front seat, they all got into the automobile. Iago turned the ignition key, the automobile started up, and after a momentary pause, Iago turned into traffic. Arcturus noted that the Americans drove on the right-hand side of the road like the French.

"The Americans have a floo terminal near the airport," said Iago. "I thought we might want to see it before we drive to Highland."

"Good idea," said Arcturus. That _was_ a good idea. He should have thought of it himself. He doubted that he'd have any great desire to drive cross-country back from New Mexico at the end of his trip. He'd probably travel back here by Floo from Santa Fe or Taos.

"There it is," said Iago, "Over on the right."

Arcturus saw that the floo terminal was situated at the edge of a block of Muggle shops. The terminal itself was disguised as a disused restaurant, in this case an old log house from the Wild West, complete with two impressively-sized chimneys. A fading sign advertising that it served steaks still stood near the entryway; the door had a notice saying that the restaurant space was for lease.

"The entry is through one of the shops on the far end," said Iago. The middle shops contain the waiting area for folk traveling to or from the executive airport or to the larger Muggle airport. A shuttle comes by every half-hour or so to take people to whichever airport they use."

[Author's note: an entirely appropriate ruse, since this is also the time of the mid-1980's Texas oil bust, and Texas oil companies. Texas-based savings and loans banks, and Texas real estate ventures are toppling like nine-pins]

Arcturus thought the disguise was cleverer than many although not as artful as some he'd seen. Still, it looked deceptive enough to fool most Muggles, and that was ultimately what counted.

They decided to go inside to look over the terminal. The forlorn and empty shops with the "for lease" signage were the true entryway and waiting area. As both Iago and Arcturus expected, the two massive chimneys were the floos themselves. There was an information kiosk near the floos with brochures concerning the magical attractions and sights around Texas, mostly having to do with the Dallas—Fort Worth area, but some concerning places further afield, mixed in with Muggle attractions.

Iago picked out a brochure published by MACUSA's magical wildlife commission. "This looks useful," he said. It was an advisory brochure describing some of the magical and non-magical creatures visitors should be wary of. Arcturus had heard of the Thunderbird and the horned serpent in his long-ago days as a schoolboy at Hogwarts, but he didn't remember reading about the hoop-snake or the chupacabra.

It didn't take him long to get bored. There was little to see at the floo terminal, aside from the information studied the garb of the folk using the floos. He noted that Most of the witches and wizards flooing in or out seemed to be wearing Muggle clothing

"So now that we know where the local floo terminal is, Sir, I suppose we should head off to Highland?" said Iago.

"Not yet," said Arcturus. "The bl****y décor out front reminds me that I haven't eaten since before we landed in Bermuda. Let's go find someplace to eat."

Iago felt his stomach rumble. He could stand a good nosh himself. He reproached himself for not thinking of finding a decent eatery near the airport fit to serve wizards. It looked like the only choices close at hand were the ones Muggle used, and far from even the Muggles' best. Well, he'd be able to help pay for any meals at a Muggle restaurant; he had American Muggle money and a charge account he'd gotten the old wizard to set up a couple of months before. He looked around, mentally eliminating fast food places, a pizzeria, and a Mexican restaurant.

By serendipity, Iago found a restaurant billing itself as a steakhouse crosswise from the disguised floo terminal. Like the floo terminal, its marquee also advertised that it was a steak house. Unlike the floo terminal, there was a Muggle-style neon light next to the entry saying "OPEN." Iago hoped that this wasn't another dodge used by MACUSA for some other purpose.

"Sir, this looks like the best of a bad lot unless we want to floo out someplace else," said Iago.

Arcturus looked dubiously at this second purported steak house's exterior. "I don't care to use the floo terminal quite yet. I doubt they'll kill us with food poisoning,"

"Let me step inside and make sure this place actually serves food," said Iago. He went inside and was greeted by the sight of diners enjoying their meals, the sound of silverware gently tapping crockery as patrons ate their meals and the scent of roasted steak. He savored the aroma of sizzling beef before he was distracted by an officious young hostess who interrupted by asking him if he wanted to be seated.

He demurred, saying that he needed to use the loo and asked her if she could point out where it was. He used the opportunity to look over the other customers' meals and observed that the entrees looked adequate. He decided that while it might not receive high ratings in the Muggles' Michelin guidebooks, it would do. He exited the loo a short time later; he really did have to go, smiled at the hostess, and told her that he needed a table for three: two adults and one small boy.

The three of them went in; Kreacher was wearing the glamour of a young boy. Iago looked around the steakhouse and was amused to see that many of its patrons were wizards and witches in mufti, sharing space with Muggles although generally seated at separate tables and booths. They smiled and nodded at Iago, Arcturus, and Kreacher as if to greet fellow-members of a secret club that nobody else knew about. _Location, location, location_ , as the Muggle cousin of a Ravenclaw had said about real estate.

The waitress seated them in a booth, with the aged wizard seated in the middle. She then brought a high seat for Kreacher, so the house elf was seated uncharacteristically at the same table, his head and shoulders showing. Arcturus thought that even wearing a glamour, the house elf looked uncomfortable.

The steakhouse was doing good business this day, and it took a while for the waitress to first return with their beverages and take their meal orders, then longer to bring out the food. Iago used the wait time to produce a printed map to show the route to Highland and to review where they'd be staying that evening in Highland.

The waitress returned with their orders a short time later. The two wizards had ordered steak, potatoes, and cooked vegetables, while Kreacher had ordered a child-sized plate of fried catfish, "tater-tots" and peas. Kreacher scowled at the food and the waitress, then grumbled about the demeanor of the waitress and the quality of the food; he would have cooked and presented it better, and he would never have dared such familiarity with the august Lord of the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

Iago felt happily sated. This had been a good meal, he'd have some coffee to help keep him awake, and then they'd set off for Highland after he used his credit card to pay for the meal. This had gone very well, he thought.

Iago's contentment was suddenly interrupted when one of the other diners drew a concealed pistol and fired a round into the ceiling and shouted "Everybody freeze! This is a robbery!"


	9. Chapter 9

DAR No Country Gunfight Version One

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Iago watched in shock as the Muggle gunman brandished his pistol and waved it at the crowd. This was as bad as one of the episodes he'd been through in North Africa. After his experience with MACUSA's immigration office, he'd assumed that the days of the Wild West were over and done with. These two idiots made him think that at the very least, he'd been too optimistic.

The Muggle gunman's female companion, jumped on top of their table and waved her pistol back and forth across the other diners. "Don't anyone f_ move! If anyone moves, I'll execute every last one of you!" she screeched.

Iago's next reaction was surprise that some witch or wizard didn't pull out his or her wand and immediately hex the robbers, followed by the realizations that these American wizards had also been unprepared and that they had a wariness of firearms that their British counterparts didn't possess. Surely they weren't all cowards, were they?

"Now!" shouted the first gunman. "Everybody on the floor!"

Iago looked over at Lord Black. His expression wasn't really readable, but it looked like he was angry at the robbers and angry at himself for allowing himself to be confined to a dining-booth and being unable to draw his wand to successfully defend himself.

Most of the diners decided to follow the robbers' instructions and began to drop to the floor. This might not work so well to the robbers' advantage, Iago noted. Even with the height advantage provided by standing atop one of the tables, there were plenty of blind spaces where the robbers wouldn't be able to see a wizard drawing his wand or another Muggle pulling out his or her pistol.

The thought came in an instant. _Those idiots are going to lose control of the situation in seconds_.

Iago saw that his suspicions were correct as he watched diners being to slide out of their chairs onto the floor and then heard the unmistakable sounds of people apparating away. The male gunman turned towards one of the sources of the popping sounds in confusion; Iago guessed it was someone behind one of the lines of booths along the far corner of the steak house. The gunman wandered over there to see what had happened. Iago wondered if the robber had the mother-wit to guess that some of the diners were no longer there.

The female gunman's eyes followed her companion's. Seizing on her distraction, Iago extended his leg and was able to nudge Kreacher on the shin. Catching the house elf's eye, glanced briefly at Arcturus, then back at Kreacher and silently mouthed "Get him out of here!"

Kreacher apparated away with Arcturus with a loud pop. The double-pop of Kreacher's and Arcturus' disapparition drew the girl gunman's attention back towards Iago. The female robber pointed her pistol at him. "Where are they? Where the H_ did they go?" she screeched.

"I don't know," said Iago.

Another diner took advantage of the robber's distraction and apparated away.

The girl with the gun heard the noise and whirled around. Iago thought to draw his wand right then and there but the girl's attention returned to him again before he could pull it free. "F_!" she screeched. "Where the f_ did they go?!" The girl's reaction would have been comical if it hadn't been for the fact that those pistols weren't so deadly weapons.

The male gunman returned from his inspection of the floor on the other side of the booths and glared at Iago. Iago cursed himself for not sitting down with his wand out.

In the instant while both of the robbers' attention was focused on Iago, another wizard apparated away.

The girl with the gun saw that several diners were no longer in the restaurant and screeched "F_! Where the f_ did they go?!"

"I'm telling you, I don't know," said Iago.

The female robber glared at him and screeched "B******t! You'd better tell me or I'll blow you away!" Iago silently cursed the fact that she didn't believe him. Iago realized that if he wanted to live, this was the time to finish pulling out his wand and take his chances. But to Iago's consternation, instead of drawing his wand, he froze. Despairingly, he looked down the barrel of the woman's pistol, an automatic, he noted, and waited for her to pull the trigger.

In that long, drawn-out instant when Iago waited for the girl gunman to pull the trigger, Iago caught a blurry form in motion out of the corner of his eye, the girl's savage expression, and the steak house's tacky décor.

The girl robber suddenly went rigid while Iago was frozen in fear. Less than an instant later, the other gunman also froze in place.

"Excuse me, let me get that," said one of the other diners. Iago could tell by the accent that the man was a local and that he held a wand. The local wizard reached for the woman's pistol, a napkin wrapped around his hand, and gently pried it from her grip.

"Damn dangerous, guns," said the man, "particularly pistols." He set down his wand momentarily, then first ejected the clip from the pistol, then opened the chamber to remove the round that was already in there. Iago could see another wizard doing the same thing with the male robber's pistol. The pistols were set on the tables next to the frozen robbers. The two wizards left the robbers petrified.


	10. Chapter 10

DAR No Country Dinner Over Drive

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

By now the remaining victims of the robbers, magical and muggle, customers and restaurant staff, realized that the robbers had been taken down and that the danger was over. Conversation began again, howbeit mostly with low murmurs. The wizard-diner who had petrified the male robber spoke up. "Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please? The situation is now under control. The bad guys have been neutralized and the Marshals will be along in a couple of minutes," he said.

Iago watched the diners who had spread out on the floor began to get on their feet or return to their seats. _Well, that's over and done with_ , he thought. _I wonder what happens next?_ Iago's relief was brutally interrupted when another diner jumped up and yelled "Alright, Nobody move! Everybody stay put until the cops get here!" Iago looked in the direction of the third idiot and cursed when he saw that this idiot also had a pistol, an impressive-looking chrome plated-one.

Iago looked at the gunman and saw that (A) he was clearly Muggle and (B) he didn't know what the hell he was doing. Iago wondered if he'd have to be one of the wizards who'd have to deal with this new idiot. He'd drawn his wand and set it down on the table; being caught once without his wand handy was more than enough. He'd rather not try his chances; he was no Gryffindor and he knew it. Still, cursing silently, he picked up his wand to perform a disillusionment spell on himself.

To Iago's relief, the third pistol-waving Muggle's antics were abruptly halted when another wizard jabbed his wand into the pistol-waver's back and growled into his ear "Put your hands up, _e, or you're dead meat!" To emphasize his peril, a witch that Iago hadn't noticed earlier walked in front of the would-be hero and pointed her wand at him. The wizard standing behind the Muggle pulled his pistol from his grasp.

"What the hell are all you witches doing here?" asked the would-be rescuer.

"Trying to eat dinner, what the H_ do you think, _hat?" said another wizard who hadn't apported away.

Iago heard a couple of guffaws and snorts of laughter, some nervous, some not, from some of the other diners. Iago was pretty sure that a couple of people who were amused were Muggles. He found himself smiling, too. It was funny.

The wizard who'd disarmed the rescuer looked at the would-be hero's open-mouthed companion, who was watching the goings-on in shock. " _ **Please**_ tell me that's the only piece at your table," he said.

The diner raised his hands off the table, shook his head vigorously, and said "Yeah, that's all."

"Good," said the wizard. "We can all sit down and have coffee and dessert."

"Fine by me," the would-be resuer's companion said hastily.

"You," said the wizard to the would-be hero. "What's your name?"

"Trevor," the would-be hero replied.

"Trevor, sit down and shut up," said the wizard. Trevor sat down and shut up.

"What next?" said Iago to his rescuer.

"Well, with any luck the Marshals will be here in a couple of minutes to clean things up," he said.

"The Marshals?" asked Iago in puzzlement.

"You must be British or something," said the American wizard. "You all call them auras, auries, aurors, something like that, don't you?"

"We call them Aurors," said Iago.

"We don't call them Aurors here in the States. We call our Aurors Marshals."

"I don't think I caught your name," said the American wizard with a smile. "My name is Hiram Black."

"I'm Iago Hook," said Iago. "I'm a tourist from Great Britain."

"If it makes you feel better, Mr. Hook, this sort of thing doesn't happen every day."

Hiram smiled and gave a brief chuckle of amusement. "Those two idiots _would_ pick a restaurant across the street from a floo terminal," said the American wizard, shaking his head at their stupidity.

The American Aurors arrived moments later and set about securing the dining room and the rest of the steak house. A couple of them went to the restaurant entrance and tried to keep would-be diners from entering and the Muggle diners caught up in the robbery from exiting.

Iago wondered where Arcturus and Kreacher apported to and if they knew how to apport back to the restaurant. His musing was cut short when he heard Arcturus' voice roaring "And I'm a bloody wizard! My companion is in there and so is my dinner!"

Moments later, Iago saw Arcturus and Kreacher walk over to their booth. The American Auror at the door must have been abashed enough to let him come inside.

"The—Marshals—have the two gunmen, Sir," said Iago. "They also have a third Muggle. The idiot panicked at the sight of magic and pulled out his own pistol. He's been disarmed."

Arcturus looked at the American wizard that Iago had clearly been talking to, looked at Iago and raised his eyebrows.

"Sir, this is Hiram Black," said Iago. "He petrified the woman gunman and then helped disarm both of them after they'd been neutralized."

"How do you do, sir?" said Arcturus, extending his hand. "I am Arcturus Black. Thank you for saving my companion."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," said Hiram Black.

Both the Black patriarch and the American wizard looked at each other, bemused to see that they both shared the same surname.

Arcturus looked the American wizard over. The American wizard was broader-framed, shorter-armed, and had a larger nose and bigger ears. He looked like a Muggle tradesman instead of an aristocratic pureblood _. Probably not near-kin, though we may have share common ancestors back in the time of the Druids_ , he thought. The American wizard was dressed Muggle-style; Arcturus wondered if he did business with Muggles, or was merely trying not to stand out when passing through Muggle territory.

Iago saw a woman and a young boy detach themselves from the crowd talking to the Marshals and walk over to them.

"Hiram," said the woman warningly. _Surely he wasn't married to a Muggle_ , he thought. _No, she was holding a wand_.

"Mr. Black,this is my wife Jolene," said Hiram. "Jolene, this is Arcturus Black and his companion Iago Hook. And I didn't catch your name, fella," he said to the House Elf, who'd decided to drop his glamour.

"How do you do, Madam Black?" said Arcturus. "And this is my house-elf Kreacher."

Kreacher looked dubiously at the American wizard who would dare claim the surname of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. Arcturus caught the house elf's eye and slowly shook his head as if to say "Don't say anything."

"And this is our boy Toby," said Hiram Black.

The boy looked much like his sire, although Arcturus could see his mother's influence in his features. The younger Black held a sketchbook. The boy looked awed. He'd never seen English wizards before, at least not dressed in English wizarding style. He probably hadn't seen house elves, either. Well, this experience should count as part of the young man's education.

"Hiram, you're getting a little old to play Wyatt Earp," Jolene said reprovingly.

"Maybe," said Hiram. "But that girl was a menace with her pistol and that guy wasn't another Anton Chigurh."

"And may I ask what you do for a living, Mister Black?" asked Arcturus.

"I make and sell cooking and restaurant supplies," he said. "I recently expanded into the Habanero market."

"Habanero?" said Arcturus.

"Habanero," said Hiram Black. "The word came from hava-no."Arcturus and Iago still looked confused. "You know, No-Majs." Hiram Black paused in thought; the English wizards _still_ hadn't guessed what he was talking about. "You Englishmen call them Muggles."

"Is that difficult?" asked Arcturus.

"Not that difficult," said Hiram Black. "You do have to file different papers with the Habanero authorities and keep separate books. Technically, it's a separate company, even if do we own it."

"And yourself, sir?" asked Hiram Black.

"I'm retired," said Arcturus, mischief rising in the back of his mind. "I expect that young Hook here will be searching for steady employment after we return to Britain."

"You don't say?" said Hiram Black. He turned to Iago. "Fella, I could use a salesman and trade representative in your part of the world soon. Think you're up to it?"

Whatever Iago was expecting, he wasn't expecting this. A job offer? Selling cook ware? It sounded more attractive than being an entry-level clerk at the Ministry or selling treacle from a cart in Diagon Alley. Could he do it? Possibly. And if things didn't work out, he wasn't much worse off than he was before.

 _Carpe diem,_ his Austrian lover had told him.

"I just might," said Iago, "after Lord Black and I return to Britain."

"Good deal," said Hiram. "I am looking for a witch or wizard who can handle the Muggle world as well as our own. Here's my business card. I've got both my wizarding and my Habanero addresses on here. Send me your resume after you get home."

"I got some samples out in the car. I was at a Habanero trade show in Dallas; I'm driving back to Abilene. I plan to sell here in the US, but I do want to expand into Britain and Continental Europe."

"What's going to happen with those three Muggles?" asked Arcturus.

"I reckon the Marshals will take the first two into custody," said Hiram. "They committed attempted armed robbery in a restaurant where about half the diners were magical. The Habanero DA doesn't get them."

"And the third one?"

"I reckon he'll be obliviated and let go," said Hiram Black. "But dollars to donuts says that he won't get his piece back."

The Marshals began letting people go. The obviously magical folk were by and large allowed to leave. Progress was a bit slower with the Muggles. Those Muggles who were knowingly with magical friends and relatives and thus just as committed to keeping the International Statutes of Secrecy were also allowed to make their departures. The remaining Muggles were going to have to stay put and be obliviated.

"How are you, young Hook?" asked Arcturus. "You were in a sticky situation."

"I feel very shaken," said Iago, "but I learned something about what happens when I get a bit of a fright: the after-effects don't hit me for about seven hours. If we can get to Highland by then, we shouldn't have any problems with my driving."

Iago saw that young Toby was studying Kreacher while holding his sketch pad. The house elf responded by glaring back at the boy, who affected not to be bothered. The boy drew what Iago recognized as a mechanical pencil from his pocket and drew a couple of lines in his small sketch book.

"Lord Black, would you mind accompanying us to our car?" asked Hiram.

Arcturus Black could tell that neither Hiram nor Jolene were Occulemenses. Curious, he decided to accompany them. The American Blacks hadn't parked that far away from where Iago had parked the rental car.

The American wizard lifted the hood of his trunk and opened a case.

"We do plan to expand into the overseas magical and muggle markets eventually," said Hiram. "I would ask you to take a couple of samples."

"Hiram," Jolene began warningly.

"It's business, Jolene," said Hiram, "and I have a good feeling about the younger fella."

Mrs. Black remained skeptical.

"So who does the cooking at your place, Lord Black?" asked Hiram Black.

"My house elves," said Arcturus.

"Well, maybe I should have made my pitch to him instead," said Hiram, looking at Kreacher. Kreacher had reassumed his glamour as a small boy.

The American wizard pulled out a small case of cooking knives. "Samples," he said, and presented it to Kreacher.

Arcturus saw that while Kreacher was bothered by the American wizard's egalitarian manners.

"Mister Kreacher, what do you think?" asked Hiram Black.

Arcturus watched as the house elf first drew a butcher knife, then a couple of carving knives, and experimentally hefted them. Kreacher made a non-commital "Hmmph" noise, but said nothing else. Nevertheless, Arcturus could tell by Kreacher's body language that he was impressed in spite of himself, although the house elf would never, ever admit it to anyone.

"We'll take it," said Arcturus. "And thank you."

They shook hands and the American wizard closed the lid of his trunk. Then he, his wife, and his son got into their car and started the engine.

"I think we can go now," said Iago.

By all means," said Arcturus. "The day isn't getting any younger, so let's be off,"

The three Britons walked over to their car and got in, pausing only as Iago opened the trunk and placed their new cutlery. They then got on the motorway. They did not travel to Highland as swiftly as Arcturus had hoped. Muggle road construction trapped them on the motorway leading from the airfield where they'd landed and Iago, Arcturus, and Kreacher were stuck on an overpass with little to do but look at Muggle lorries and automobiles and a vista showing a wide divided highway cutting through a neighborhood of low-rise Muggle apartment buildings. Arcturus wondered how far that neighborhood sprawled and how many Muggles must live there.

This particular motorway was called a loop, but Arcturus found that the motor traffic moved as slowly as water on the lower Thames. Arcturus looked at the drivers and passengers of the vehicles in front and to either side of the rental car. Most of them had the look and feel of Muggles. He wondered about a couple of the other drivers. Could they be magical folk too? Clearly some American magical folk drive automobiles like their Muggle. He wondered how they dealt with traffic blockages like this one. A few minutes later he had his answer: he saw a couple of automobiles sidling through the stalled traffic like serpents gliding through underbrush.

It took the better part of two hours to get clear of the airport and the sprawl of roadways, shops, warehouses, and dwellings that constituted greater Fort Worth _. So many Muggles,_ thought Arcturus. He hadn't really considered how many Muggles there were in the world before he'd started traveling again. He'd known that Muggles vastly outnumbered the wizarding community, but he hadn't realized by just how much they outnumbered them. The thought was worrisome.

Kreacher looked around disapprovingly at the stalled and slow-moving Muggle automobiles and sniffed disapprovingly. "Are we there yet?" he asked.

Traffic eased up a bit, and Iago was finally able to get off the loops and onto the westbound Interstate. His progress was delayed by a Muggle military convoy slowed traffic moving west from Fort Worth.

Iago spoke little while driving. Arcturus amused himself by opening the highway map that had come with the rental car. Many of the towns and cities had colorful names: Fort Worth, White Settlement, Palo Pinto, Cisco. The car drove past Weatherford. There was a turnoff for someplace called Mineral Wells. His guidebook said that there were still mineral springs there and a resort once frequented by wizarding folk as well as Muggles, but that the resort had closed after the Second Great Muggle War.

"Are we there yet?" said Kreacher irritably.

"No," said Arcturus shortly.

The house elf returned to his silent brooding.

Arcturus was amazed at the immensity of this country as well as how ugly he found it. He'd heard that Texas was larger than France, but he'd had difficulty believing it until he and Iago drove across it.

It was now very late in the afternoon and the sun was sinking low in the sky when Iago drove through Abilene. Arcturus had heard of an Abilene from cowboy movies he'd seen at Muggle cinemas before the Grindelwald War, although he doubted that this was the one in question. He remembered that the cowboys were constantly driving cattle either to Abilene or someplace else called Dodge City.

Shortly after they'd left Abilene behind them, Arcturus noticed signs along the roadway announcing the upcoming exits for Dyess Air Force Base. The Muggles were still using it, and Arcturus was able to watch a large military jet fly over the roadway and then presumably land at the airfield that must be to the south. Unlike the aeroplanes he'd seen on Bermuda, this one was clearly an attack aircraft of some sort. It looked fast and sleek and even in the fading light he could see that it was painted in a camouflage pattern that reminded him of the Muggle attack aircraft he'd seen flying overhead while he was fighting in the Grindelwald War and the Muggles busied themselves with the Second Great Muggle War. Watching the jet made him thoughtful. He wondered just how fast it could go; he wouldn't be surprised if it could break the sound barrier. Thinking about the jet made him wonder about the wisdom of those who said that the Wizarding world could wage war on its Muggle counterpart and gain a quick and cheap victory.

He supposed that it might be possible for the combined witches and wizards of the world to subdue their Muggle counterparts. He thought of the story of the Ancient Greek Muggle king Pyrrus who had fought the Romans and won, but at great cost He feared that a victorious war against the Muggles, if possible, would come at an even more hideous cost.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Author's notes: As you can see, this is not the canon Harry Potter universe. Nor is it the canon Daria/Beavis and Butthead universe. This work is alternate universe in both story lines.

Some may wonder why I called American Aurors Marshals. My reason is simple: I wrote this story from a Daria fan's perspective. While most Daria fans are also knowledgeable about the world of Harry Potter and Newt Scamander, not all of them are. Calling Aurors Marshals gives non-HP fans a fast heads-up as to the characters' role.

I chose to call non-magical humans Habaneros. The word is derived from the post-World War II phrase "hava-no." Since Texas does border on Mexico, and since many Texas wizards and witches are Spanish-speaking Latinos (Not all of them, though), I thought that calling Muggles Habaneros would be a nice dodge for wizardkind and show how American wizarding slang had changed from Newt Scamander's youth.


	11. Chapter 11

DAR No Country No Rest

Daria is the creation of Glenn eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Arcturus came to again a little while later. He'd been walking arm-in-arm with his wife Melania through a great grassland with waist-high grass stretching to the horizon in all directions. He must have dozed off, then started dreaming. He looked at the signage and realized with irritation that he'd just missed seeing Sweetwater. According to the guidebook the town had gotten its name because the water was clean and lacked the mineral taste reputedly so common in this part of Texas. He supposed he'd discover the difference this evening when they finally reached Highland.

"Iago," said Arcturus.

"Sir?" said Iago.

"Could you find someplace to pull off? I need to p_," said Arcturus.

A blue and white sign flew by on the side of the road while Arcturus was examining the fancy paint on an huge American motor lorry in the left lane.

"We're in luck, Sir," said Iago. "There's a rest area up ahead in about two and a half miles."

"Good," said Arcturus. "I can sit down and do my business without risking getting nipped by the local wildlife."

Iago's observation was confirmed when Arcturus saw a sign stating that the exit for the rest area was a quarter mile away. Iago pulled off the Interstate shortly thereafter and came to a stop in front of a low, angled-roof covered structure built of tan brick divided into two sections with some sort of notice board standing in-between. No one else was there, which Iago counted as a plus.

"Kreacher," said Arcturus. "I am about to use the lavatory. Go and clean that structure for me. Just the men's room, mind.

Kreacher got out and walked from the curb to the overhang, saw the sign that said "Men," and turned right. Kreacher looked at the mess, and gave a loud sniff of disgust. This place was filthy. He set to work with abandon, using house elf house-cleaning spells passed down from parent to child for centuries. Floor, walls, metal stalls, toilets, sinks, and mirrors, all were subject to cleansing magic. By the time Kreacher was finished, the facilities were clean and gleaming in ways they hadn't been in years.

He gave a thin smile of satisfaction at a task well done. Now this Muggle hovel was fit for the use of a Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. He proudly threw his head back and strutted out to the entryway to tell his lord and master that the facilities were ready for his use.

To his annoyance, Kreacher's path was blocked by an unfamiliar low-slung shaggycreature with a long nose and coarse white-and-black fur. The creature looked at the house elf in curiosity. _Doubtless this vermin had never seen a house elf before_ , thought Kreacher.

Kreacher looked at the creature and scowled. "Begone, vermin. These facilities are for the use of the Lord of the Noble and Ancient House of Black!"

Instead of retreating, the obnoxious creature lowered its head, arched its back, and raised its tail.

"Depart!" said Kreacher. "Vermin such as you are not fit company for the Lord of the Noble and Ancient House of Black!"

The creature's response was to make a purring noise and to start stamping its front feet.

"Well, if you will not depart of your own accord, I shall make you!" shouted Kreacher.

The creature glared back at Kreacher. The house elf could see that this creature's ire was up. _No matter,_ thought Kreacher. _Vermin such as this were no match for a house elf._

Kreacher advanced on the black-and-white striped vermin, but instead of finally retreating, it spun around, and something horrible happened.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country

Kreacher's squall of distress carried into the parking lot.

"Merlin's beard," said Arcturus. "What happened?"

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Author's note: Kreacher just met a striped skunk, a common North American species. Skunks are well known for their ability to emit a foul-smelling spray for self-defense. Skunks can spray to a distance of at least ten to fifteen feet away and are able to direct their spray quite accurately. Unlike the Niffler, the Thunderbird, or the Winged Evil, skunks are very, very real.

To my knowledge, feral skunks have not yet established a presence in the British Isles, which is probably why Kreacher has never seen one or heard about their traits.


	12. Chapter 12

DAR FF No country Highland Arrival

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

The old wizard quickly moved to see what had happened to his house elf. As he approached the rest area's shelter, he was overwhelmed by a revolting smell, one that made him almost ill. The scent made him gag. Someone or something had sprayed the aging house elf with a particularly revolting, nauseating liquid.

"That creature! That vermin!" cried Kreacher.

"What creature?" asked Arcturus.

"An ugly black-furred creature with a white stripe down its spine!" cried Kreacher. "It turned on me and sprayed me with it scent! And it stings!"

Arcturus had no idea what sort of creature sprayed his house elf or whether the creature was magical or not. Whatever the case, the thing had sprayed his house-elf.

It was time to act. Arcturus could see that Kreacher's tea towel was ruined.

"Pass that here," he said. He drew his wand and using a powerful aguamenti spell, sprayed Kreacher and his tea towel to try to dissipate the foul-smelling residue. His spell didn't work that well. Kreacher's tea towel positively reeked of whatever-it-was' spray. Arcturus decided that the house elf's tea-towel was ruined and that the house elf would have to wear one of the spares he'd had packed in his luggage.

Arcturus used his wand to levitate the house elf's ruined tea-towel into a rubbish bin. He continued to spray the house elf with water, followed the spray with a "Scourgify" spell, then conjured a towel for the elf to dry himself off with.

His charms worked-somewhat. Kreacher no longer reeked of whatever unpleasant liquid that he'd been sprayed with, but some of the stench still clung to the unlucky house elf. This was a bit beyond his skill set; Arcturus usually left such spell-work to Melania or, during the Grindelwald War, to his companions-in-arms when they'd removed dead bodies out of whatever shelter where they'd chosen to sleep. There'd been a Muggle-born wizard from Norfolk who'd been particularly talented with that sort of charm.

He needed a moment to think. To his irritation, some of the odor had now attached itself to his clothing. He decided to take care of his original business, then, after washing his hands, decided that it was time to call in outside help. He walked back towards the car. Iago was standing outside on the sidewalk.

"What happened?" he said.

"Some sort of creature attacked Kreacher and sprayed him with some sort of foul liquid," said Arcturus. "I got the worst of it off but the poor fellow still reeks of it. I wonder if the natives can suggest some sort of potion or spell-work that would clean the rest of it off of him."

He thought of some of the pranks he'd pulled when he was at Hogwarts long ago. He and a couple of his mates had once doused some Gryffindor berks with what they thought was a particularly foul-smelling potion, but whatever creature that had attacked his house elf had used something even more vile.

"I should be able to find something," said Iago. He quickly found the pamphlet he and Arcturus had picked up concerning the fantastic beasts of North America and began studying it to see if they had some sort of contact information he could use for help in cleansing the house elf. To his relief, he found that MACUSA's Department of Wilderness and Wildlife Protection not only had a floo address but had a Muggle-style hotline he could contact using the Muggles' telephone network.

"I think we might be in luck, Sir," said Iago. "MACUSA's wildlife people have a Muggle-style hotline we can access through the Muggles' telephones."

"We'll call them, then," said Arcturus.

Arcturus and Iago walked towards the shelter and saw that there was a stand with a couple of Muggle pay telephones just to the right of the lavatories. Iago was grateful that he'd brought quarters. Iago began the dialing process. He was relieved to learn that it was an 800 number, and the machine disgorged the two quarters it had taken. He was first put on hold, then was handed off to some sort of telephone operator located Hecate alone knew how far away.

He handed the receiver to Arcturus.

"Can you describe the creature to me, please?" said the operator.

"It, it was black, knee-high, with a long white stripe!" said the house-elf indignantly. "And the vermin sprays!"

"About six to eight inches off the ground, coarse black fur, with a large white stripe running from snout to tail," said Arcturus. "It sprayed my house elf."

"Mister Black, it sounds like your house elf was sprayed by a striped skunk," said the operator.

"Is that a problem?" said Arcturus. He could hear the operator trying to remain professional and her working to stifle a desire to giggle.

"Mister Black, we regret to inform you that skunks are not considered to be fantastic creatures and that it is department policy not to give advice concerning normal wildlife."

It was time for him to use his best Slytherin guile and the charm he'd learned over a lifetime to see if he could beguile the woman on the other end of the telephone into assisting him. "My dear madam, I am but a tourist from Britain and we don't anything like these at home," said Arcturus. "I would appreciate any counsel you can give me. I'm sure that a witch of your beauty and talent has sage advice for a traveler in a strange land."

The operator did give in and giggled. "Well, it's against Department guidelines, but I can tell you that the Contra-nidor mephitis spell works wonders."

My dear lady," said Arcturus, "I'm sorry, but I don't know that spell"

"There is also a non-magical technique," said the operator. "You apply apple cider vinegar to the areas that have been sprayed. The vinegar removes most remaining residue and after a shower, you're almost good to go. It's a No-Maj remedy but it works as well for us as it does for them."

"And where can I find some?" asked Arcturus.

"Some of the better-stocked grocery stores should have some apple cedar vinegar in stock. I wish you good luck," said the operator. "Thank you for calling, and have a good night." The operator hung up.

Arcturus growled in exasperation. It was a habit from childhood, one his parents had tried to break him from even before he went off to Hogwarts as a first-year. They'd only partially succeeded. As the august head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, he felt he was entitled to growl in exasperation as often as he pleased in private.

Iago, Arcturus, and Kreacher all got back in the car. Its interior now bore a noticeable trace of skunk scent. Shortly afterwards, they drove past an exit and an overpass for a highway leading to someplace improbably named Lubbock.

"Are we there yet?" said Kreacher plaintively.

"Not too far now," said Iago.

They drove in silence, both Arcturus and Iago wondering if there was some way to reduce the cursed smell. The highway rose over a hill and Iago could see the exit signs for Highland.

Iago took the exit for US Highway 87. Their hotel was downtown and south of the Interstate. Thus far , thus good, thought Iago.

Iago looked in his rear view mirror and saw that he was mistaken. Two fast-moving automobiles, both driven erratically, were coming up behind him. . Both cars were driving well over the posted speed limit and Iago could see that they would catch up with him fast. The cars were weaving to and fro, and Iago guessed that the occupants of the two vehicles were having some sort of dispute with each other.

Instincts Iago honed during his travels in Mali, the Sudan, Algeria, and the dodgier areas of eastern Europe kicked in. The younger wizard horsed the car off the street and partially onto the sidewalk to let the two carload of maniacs pass him by, slamming on the brakes and bringing the sedan to a complete and sudden stop. As he did so, a couple of somethings caromed through the front windscreen and side window. Iago waited for the maniacs' cars to pass out of sight, then got out of the car to see what had happened. Arcturus bent forward to see a couple of bullet holes in the wind screen.

"So what happened?" said Arcturus.

"Stray bullets," said Iago. "Those Muggles were shooting at each other."

"Lively place," he added.

Arcturus frowned. One of his chief disagreements with Muggle-born wizards and witches outside of the issue of blood purity was that he felt that the majority of the Muggle-born were coming to expect the world to turn into some sort of extended nursery, with the greatest risk being falling out of a high chair. He was from an older school: he believed that danger and risk of death and injury were part of life. He believed he still felt and acted that way. After all, hadn't he just flown across the ocean in a Muggle airplane? Hadn't he ridden over 200 miles in a Muggle automobile? Still, he'd rather not die from gunshot this evening.

"Should we check into our hotel, Sir?" asked Iago.

"Not quite yet," said Arcturus. "There's a local address I'd like to look up. Are you still up to driving?"

"

""I think I'm up to a short hop, Sir, if it isn't far or if the drive isn't too exciting," said Iago. "Where is it?"

"The destination is here in town. It's a house on someplace called Whirlwind Drive. The house number is 1540 Whirlwind Drive."

They pulled off into a parking lot, and Iago found their current location and intended destination on a local map Piggy had provided before their departure. Iago pulled out of the parking lot and continued south on US 87.

Two miles later, he turned off Highway 87, made a right turn onto Yancey Way, then turned left onto Cravat Street. He'd have to slow down now; Whirlwind Drive was one of the small streets that crossed Cravat Street.

There, that was Whirlwind Drive. Arcturus had Iago slow down while he counted house numbers. The houses were small. They looked very much like each other, with only small details Arcturus supposed had been added later on to distinguish one from the other. _Tract housing,_ thought Arcturus, although they'd been standing long enough for individual differences to appear as their owners repaired and remodeled their dwellings. Like common Yank practice, the even-numbered houses were on one side of the street and the odd-numbered houses were on the other.

He found the house he was looking for between 1538 and 1542 Whirlwind Drive. Arcturus recognized it from the house number and the photographs he'd seen back in England. It was a mean little house, he thought, not much bigger than a peasant's cottage. And to think that were five people living there: his great-granddaughter, the girl's mother, Mr. Morgendorffer, the girl's younger sister, and the girl's youngest sister. He wondered how they all managed to squeeze in there.

"What do you want me to do next, Sir?" asked Iago.

"Just stop for a bit while I look over the house," said Arcturus.

The house was dark. He wondered if anyone was home. He decided there wasn't; the Morgendorffers' lights were out. He guessed that the Morgendorffers were out somewhere and wouldn't be back for at least a couple of hours. He came to a decision.

"I'm stepping out here," he said. "Wait a couple of minutes, drive down a couple of houses, and wait for me there."

It was now full dark, and some negligent local minion had forgotten to replace a burned-out street light. Arcturus stepped out of the car and performed a disillusionment spell on himself. The spell was good enough to confuse Muggle bystanders into believing that no one was there, but pets and other creatures could still hear him. The dog next door heard his steps and started barking. _Filthy cur_ , he thought.

He walked up to the front window and peered in through the glass. _There,_ he thought, spying an empty space in the small house's salon.

He turned away from the Morgendorffers' window and walked towards the street. The neighbors' dog continued to bark. Iago had done what he'd asked and he opened the passenger car door in front of a gaudily-painted pink house with white trim. A blue and white flickering light showed out its front window; Arcturus decided that its occupants were watching television. He stepped back into the waiting car and slammed the door.

"How did it go, Sir?" asked iago.

"As well as could be expected," said Arcturus. "That's all for tonight. Let's check into our hotel and get some sleep."

About a block and a half later, Iago slammed on the brakes.

"What?" said Arcturus.

"That!" said Iago.

Arcturus looked up to see a ghostly wall of bawling long-horned cattle sprawled across the street and over the kerbs headed towards him, Iago, and Kreacher.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*


	13. Chapter 13

Daria Ravenclaw No Country for Unpleasant Old Men Check In

Iago remembered the ghostly cattle drive for the rest of his life. In later years if anyone asked him if American cowboys really talked the way they did in American cinema, he flatly denied it. The ghostly cowboys' language was archaic, flourid, expressive, and thoroughly insulting.

The drive to the hotel was mercifully brief and, after the cattle drive had passed, devoid of incident. Iago made a stop of his own before driving to the Hotel Aylesford. He suspected that their hotel probably had valet parking and that he most certainly did not want to explain the bullet holes the rental car had gotten on US 87. He stepped out of the car, drew his wand and used Reparo spells to mend the wind screen and side windows.

Iago was disappointed with downtown Highland. It was small and looked impoverished, even compared to some of the colliery towns of northern England. Its center came off the worse when compared to that of a medium-sized Muggle market town in Britain. Even on Friday night, everything looked closed down.

Finding the Hotel Aylesford proved easy. Highland had only two other building near the town center taller than three stories: the Petroleum Building and the Settles Hotel. The Settles Hotel was taller and grander, but the Hotel Aylesford had a charm of its own. It was a six-story building that must have been impressive when it first opened, then fell upon hard times, and now had gone through a rebirth, surviving the decades of hard times following its first heyday that claimed larger and smaller competitors.

Iago handled hotel check-in. Kreacher was again wearing his small boy's glamour. Iago had worried that the receptionist might have questions as to what they were doing traveling with a small boy, but the lingering odor of skunk discouraged the receptionist from further questions.

Once installed in the room, Arcturus ordered Kreacher to take another shower. He would be going downstairs to run an errand of his own. He opened his own wallet, then, satisfied with his own cash supply, took the hotel elevator to the lobby, then stepped outside.

He walked down the street, his wand out and not caring who might see it; he'd decided that this part of Highland was a dangerous place.

There was a small liquor store about two blocks from the hotel. The place was well-stocked, although Arcturus didn't recognize many of the brands. He looked at the clerk standing next to the cash register. The clerk looked to be Indian. Arcturus had traveled to India back in the days when India had been part of the British Empire.

"Namaste," said Arcturus.

The clerk's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Namaste," replied the clerk. "What brings you here to my humble establishment?"

"I've come to buy a bottle of whiskey," said Arcturus.

"Ah, an Englishman," said the clerk. "You have been to India, yes?"

"Long ago," said Arcturus, with a small nod, "during the Raj."

"That long ago?" said the clerk. He looked impressed.

"That long ago," said Arcturus. "George the Fifth was on the throne. Can you recommend anything?"

The clerk looked even more impressed.

Arcturus and the clerk soon agreed on a brand of whisky that supposedly had a good reputation and Arcturus bought a bottle. The bottle was for Iago, but he might help himself to a nip if there was any left later.

Arcturus kept his wand out when he left the store; he'd decided that this part of Highland was a dangerous place.

He saw her form come silently out of the shadows.

"Howdy, stranger," she said. "Are you looking for a good time?"

He knew her type. By the look of her costume she seemed to date to his father's generation, perhaps even his grandfather's time. He hoped that she was a ghost with some personality and not one of the ones trapped repeating the same stupid inanities over and over and over again for eternity. Even so, he didn't know why he thought her attire was alluring; even prim-and-proper women showed more flesh these days.

"My dear lady," he replied. "If I were half a century younger and you a decade or two more, I'm sure we could come to an arrangement."

The ghost laughed. "An Englishman!" she exclaimed. "My, how you talk pretty!"

"So what brings you to town?" she asked.

"I have personal business here," he said. "I mean to look in on a daughter of an old friend and see that she's in good health. Why do you think I would be here?"

"Cattle, oil," she replied. "Since you're English, I didn't think you were here to go to the Veterans' Administration hospital."

"No, I'm not," said Arcturus.

"I'd love to linger and chat," said Arcturus, "but I have another errand I need to attend to."

"You might want to be a little careful when you walk down to the corner," she said. "There's a young fella with a pistol fixing to rob you."

Arcturus found an overhang that put him in shadow and looked around. There wasn't anyone visible who could see him, so he used a disillusionment spell to make him difficult to see. The young thug didn't see him before Arcturus hexed him. Arcturus decided that since the ghost's warning was legitimate, he'd hex first and ask questions later.

The thug collapsed into a pile in the alleyway. Arcturus took the thug's pistol and transfigured into a shapeless clay-like lump, leaving the thug lying where he was. He then used an old schoolboy charm he'd learned as a third year to untie the thug's shoe laces, then used magic to take the shoes off the young hoodlum's feet. Using an Incendio charm, Arcturus used wand-magic to burn them to a crisp. Finding a couple of empty glass bottles lying near by, Arcturus broke them and walked out of the alley. He then picked up his purchase, and walked back to the hotel.

He returned to his suite with a bottle of good American whisky. Iago had been through a lot today, and the younger wizard could certainly use a drink. He'd earned it.

Arcturus already decided that he'd go out again. He would visit the Morgendorffer house by himself. Now that he knew where it was, he could apport there directly from his hotel room. He'd bring his wand, of course, but he didn't foresee the need for a Lumos charm. This wasn't the Tudor period or even the Regency; the Morgendorffers had perfectly serviceable light switches. His trip this far into Muggle country as well as earlier forays had given him enough confidence to deal with such things as well as electrical cords, and electrically-powered ice boxes.

Iago was grateful for the whisky. He poured himself a couple of fingers, then sat in the chair sipping his drink. "Good stuff, Sir," said Iago. "Thank you."

"Do you want some?" he asked.

"Not now," said Acturus.

"Are you going to turn in, Sir?" asked Iago.

"Not yet," said Arcturus. "I'm going out for a bit."

He apported back to the Morgendorffer house, materialing in its salon. The Morgendorffer salon was small and cramped. He was relieved to know that Piggy's information was correct; the Morgendorffers had no pets. He found the correct light-switches on the wall and turned them on.

Arcturus turned on the switch by the front door and looked around the Morgendorffers' salon. He looked at the photographs on the wall and on the living room table. They were Muggle photographs, lifeless and flat, but they showed the Morgendorffers separately and together, Mrs. Morgendorffer, her hapless husband, and all three of Mrs. Morgendorffer's daughters. He remembered previous reports saying that the middle daughter had a very different personality from her older sister. The youngest sister was now a toddler, she shared looks with both of her older sisters.

There was a bookcase in the main salon. Arcturus believed that one could learn a lot about a family by examining the contents of their library. Curious, went over to look at the book case's contents. A lot of the volumes were legal texts having to do with American muggle law. There was also a multi-volume reference work called an encyclopedia, dictionaries. There were also a few old novels and history books.

He made his way towards the family's sleeping quarters. He quickly found the master bedroom and noted that the youngest daughter still shared a room with her parents. The two older daughters must have their own room or rooms, he concluded, and made his way there. Unlike most Black daughters, the older Morgendorffer daughters shared a bedroom. Even without the framed calligraphy on the wall that said "I am Daria Morgendorffer," Arcturus was able to tell which side of the room was his great-granddaughter's and which was Helen Morgendorffer's next-eldest. The girl had her own small book case. The bed was neatly made up and covered with a somber-looking bedspread.

He wondered what sorts of books a Muggle-raised girl would read and decided that his great-granddaughter's book case was worth investigating. He looked at the titles, then plucked out a couple of them. The thinner ones were childish Muggle storybooks, showing signs of being read and re-read multiple times. There were also a couple of thicker books that looked like they were written for older readers. Most of those were written by Muggle authors; Arcturus recognized none of the authors except for Charles Dickens.

He looked on top of a dresser and was amused to see that his great-granddaughter still had her dollhouse, a two-story affair that looked larger and grander than the Morgendorffers' house. Most of the furniture looked crude or made of plastic. He could see the patina and smell the scent of fresh paint; for some reason or another, the girl had repainted one of the rooms in red and black and added a green-skinned hag and a separate toy cauldron. By the brightness and smell of the paint, she must have done it recently. He wondered how that had come about. He smiled; after all, there was no reason to hide his feelings here. Did the girl recognize her true heritage or did she, like so many Muggles, attempt to dabble in Magic to annoy their parents or acquaintances?

He decided that he found the doll house charming. Most young witches usually outgrew their interest in doll houses, and many of them gave or threw away their old ones. Maybe he could find someone to buy this one when the girl reached that certain age?

He sat on her bed for several minutes trying to guess how the girl's part of the bedroom reflected her character. It had a sober, almost scholarly air that contrasted with the bright colors and frivolity of her younger sister's side of the room.

He stood up again and wondered if the Morgendorffers had had any dealings with skunks themselves. He walked into the kitchen and decided to see what he could find in the Morgendorffers' larder. He began his search first by opening and closing doors under the kitchen counter and found nothing. He then decided to expand his search to the pantry. His search was interrupted by the sound of an automobile's engine very close, followed by silence as the automobile's engine turned off, followed by the sounds of automobile doors opening and voices of adults and children.

He frowned and continued searching. He still had a minute, maybe two, until the Morgendorffers opened the front door and entered the house. There was plenty of time to apport away.

" _A break in!_ Young punks! They might still be in there!" cried a loud masculine voice outside the house. _No doubt as to who that was_ , thought Arcturus. The man's exclamation was followed by the quieter sound of a woman's voice remonstrating with her impulsive spouse. _So that's what she sounds like,_ he thought.

So he would have those extra minutes and maybe a few more. Arcturus resumed his search. He found the treasure trove beneath the bottom shelf in the back of the pantry: no less than four glass gallon jugs of apple cider vinegar. The quantity was worrisome. Why did the Morgendorffers have so much cider vinegar? Did skunks travel in large packs? Did the Morgendorffers expect all of their family to get sprayed, or had his great-granddaughter's erratic step-father given into a bout of enthusiasm and bought too much? The thought of large packs of skunks was worrisome. He'd have to talk to the Wildlife people on the morrow and ask about their habits.

He picked up one of the jugs and nestled it under his arm. "Sorry, Jacob," he said to the kitchen walls, "but my need is greater than thine," nestled the gallon jug of cider vinegar he'd appropriated under his arm, and apported away. Officer Rowlett and the other members of the Highland Police Department who'd spread around the Morgendorffer house to secure the perimeter missed him by bare minutes.

He heard the sound of water running in the bath upon his return. Iago must have decided to retire after he'd had his drink. Well, he deserved his drink and his rest.

He found his house elf sulking on a stool. Kreacher had showered, but even now there was still a scent of skunk-spray on him.

"Filthy creatures," muttered Kreacher.

"Kreacher, I brought you something," said Arcturus. "A Muggle remedy, but you won't smell like you'd met a skunk after I've done…"


	14. Chapter 14

DAR No Country Highland s Future

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Beavis and Butthead is the creation of Mike Judge and is also the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own none of these and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own enjoyment and for ego gratification.

Warning: coarse language.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

The next morning Arcturus felt the sensation of awakening in a strange bed and seeing light stream in through the gap in the drawn curtains. He heard Iago carefully padding across the room, the sound of a commode flushing, followed by the sound of Iago washing his hands.

He levered himself up. "I'm awake," he said when Iago came out of the bathroom.

"Good morning, Sir," said Iago. "What are you planning on doing today?"

"I plan to visit that house again.," said Arcturus. "I'll need Muggle child's clothing, first."

"Do you know what size?" asked Iago.

"No bloody idea," said Arcturus. "We're about to find out."

He walked to the chest of drawers that the Hotel Aylesford provided for its guests. He hoped that Kreacher had been careful when he unpacked his suitcase. He quickly found the flask he'd have the house elf pack before he left Britain.

They had a quick breakfast at the hotel's small restaurant. They were going to go shopping for Muggle clothing. Kreacher would not be accompanying them.

The receptionist on duty recommended a shop located in a strip mall south and east of Highland's downtown. After they got into the rental car, Iago was able to find it easily enough.

There was a small fold-up table set up to the side of the store's entrance. A fair-haired bearded man wearing eye-glasses and an eye-smarting multi-colored tee shirt sat behind it. Arcturus remembered that those sorts of Muggle were called hippies. The hippie had a name tag that said "David."

Arcturus remembered that his sort of attire was called hippie clothing sat behind it.

Melania used to tell him that some hippies' attire was picturesque. It might well have been picturesque back in Britain. Here, though, this David fellow merely looked seedy.

"Save the Yellow-Crested Prairie Warbler! Hello, sir! Would you please sign our petition to save the yellow-crested prairie warbler?"

A Muggle dressed in blue denim trousers wearing a genuine western hat and a worn pair of what Arcturus remembered were called cowboy boots walked past the hippie and into the store.

David-the-Hippie spotted Iago and Arcturus.

"Sir, would you and your little boy sign our petition to save Texas wildlife?" said the aging hippie.

"I'm sorry," said Iago, "but we're British. We don't sign."

"Come along, Arthur," he added, just as if he was a parent shepherding his small boy instead collaborating with a much older and more skillful wizard who'd disguised himself with polyjuice potion.

Arcturus followed Iago through the entrance and found himself standing in a cavernous area with treated plywood tables, metallic shelving, and bare concrete floors. Despite the bustle and the clothing, he found these surroundings cold and alien.

Most of the Muggles looked like they came from humble backgrounds. Arcturus decided that he did not care for the store. Still, it did sell inexpensive Muggle children's clothing and shoes.

 _I do not belong here,_ Arcturus thought to himself. Nevertheless, this errand was necessary, however unpleasant he found this store. He did not care to walk around this little town barefoot and wearing only his knickers even if the polyjuice potion held out.

"Well, Papa," said Arcturus sardonically, "what sort of clothing would you recommend?"

"I would suggest inexpensive muggle street clothing," said Iago. "Inexpensive, commonplace clothes that don't attract attention and don't give witnesses cause to remember what you were wearing."

"Teach your grandmother to make potion for boils," Arcturus replied.

"I'd probably study some of the kids and copy what some of the halfway-respectable ones were wearing," said Iago. "I'd try to avoid anything memorable or outré."

Arcturus decided against tee-shirts. He might not be planning to dress like a fashionably-dressed wizard hereabouts, but he thought that tees were too vulgar. He picked a couple of boy's-sized polo shirts that would have fit his younger friend's grand-nephew. Deciding that the polos would do, he couldn't help but wander over to a display of tee shirts to see just how ghastly they were. Some of them were well and truly horrid. He was examining tee shirts when someone poked him from behind.

"Stop that," he said.

He turned around to stare down the git who'd poked him. The git in question was about his height, with short brown hair, a vacant-looking expression, and teeth that image-conscious Muggles would try to reposition with braces. The boy must be about his friend's grand-nephew's age. The boy was wearing shorts and a tee shirt advertising some Muggle popular band.

The boy's response was moronic laugh.

"Weiner," said the boy.

"Sod off," said Arcturus.

The boy poked him again.

Arcturus turned around and flexed his muscles. "One more poke and you'll regret it," he said coldly.

Surprisingly, the idiot must have realized that Arcturus might be entirely serious. Unlike the scuffles he constantly had with his buddy, this guy might mean trouble. He decided to change the subject.

"So what's your name?" said the idiot. "My name's Butthead," the idiot laughed. "What's yours, fart-knocker?"

In centuries gone by, Arcturus thought sourly, he'd draw his wand and curse the Muggle where he stood. However, he did not want to let the entire store know that he was a wizard. Still, he was increasingly annoyed with this little idiot.

"What's it to you?" said Arcturus testily.

His temper was up. Melania had warned him to be careful when he began to get angry. Melania was dead for years now. A Devil-may-care fancy passed though his brain, the sort of whim that used to get him in trouble before he settled down.

"My name's Tom," he said, "Tom Riddle."

Arcturus saw an olive-skinned thirty-something woman with dark, thick hair at the edge of the next table gasp when he used the name. Too late, he saw what could only be a wand handle protruding to the side of the lip of the woman's handbag. He cursed himself for his giving in to impulse. Nothing to do about it at this point except to brazen it out, he thought.

He didn't know if the little git would stay or go. He'd probably stay, and he suspected that he'd then have to have his first childish row since childhood when he was saved by adult intervention.

"So there you are, you little rascal!" said a woman, reaching for the obnoxious brat's shoulder, and pulled him away. Arcturus stared at the boy's mother's face in astonishment. She was a tarted-up doppleganger for Cecily Clough, a girl he'd not thought about in years.

Ceciley was a student at Hogwarts back when he was a boy, a Slytherin, of course. He remembered Ceciley as being incurious and thick-headed while at Hogwarts, a trait she still possessed when she made her debut in society a few years later.

This faux-Ceciley was dressed in a revealing black halter top, scandalously short shorts, and fishnet stockings. Her hair was pilled high and her face heavily made up. She looked like a tart. He'd seen strumpets wearing more clothing.

He tried to imagine Ceciley dressed like this woman and couldn't. He tried to imagine the real Ceciley with this woman's idiotic-looking unicorn tattoo peeking over the top the top of her shorts and smirked.

The faux-Ceciley had a man with her. He was about six feet tall, hairy-armed, with a brawler's nose and a gut. He wore a leather vest with a patch that said "Permian Tornados" embroidered on it. He also had his own tattoo: a skull and crossbones design which Arcturus was bemused to think looked more handsome than a Death Eater's dark mark. Arcturus looked at the faux-Ceciley, at her offspring, and then at her escort. He was certain that the escort wasn't the boy's father. He wondered about the brat's parentage and began to worry. He decided if this git was the result of excessive inbreeding, he was done now and forever with the cause of Pureblood Supremacy. _**Anything**_ , even having his descendants marry full-blown Muggle-borns, was better than _**this**_. He was grateful he hadn't poken his thoughts aloud. He amended his last thought to if his descendants had to marry Muggles, he'd insist that at the very least, they'd have to be intelligent Muggle-borns with strong magic.

"Come along, babe," he said. The faux-Ceciley walked away, her brat in tow.

Iago had wandered off to buy some inconspicuous-looking Muggle clothing of his own, but now returned.

The faux-Ceciley saw Iago and smiled. Iago smiled and nodded and tried not to think of his libido. The presence of this woman's escort proved helpful.

"My, what a handsome boy you have!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?"

"Art Black," said Iago.

"Uh, but like he said his name was," began the woman's little boy.

"Shut up," said the Faux-Ceciley's companion to the boy..

"Nice boy," she said.

"He can be a handful at times," Iago replied.

The woman's escort started to eye him with an unfriendly expression.

 _Prudence is the better part of valor_ , thought Iago.

"Excuse me, Madam," said Iago, "But I'm looking for shorts for a fellow his size. It wouldn't do for him to walk around Texas with a bare bum."

"Over there," said the woman. She then realized what Iago had just said and giggled.

"Thank you," replied Iago. "Come along, Art, let's look at shorts," he said, giving the polyjuiced older wizard a gentle nudge away from the woman, her boy, and the brute she was with.


	15. Chapter 15

Daria Ravenclaw No Country Check Out And Lunch

 _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge and is also the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. Anton Chigurh is the creation of the late Cormac McCarthy; I don't own him or the rights for _No Country for Old Men_ , either. I own none of the above properties and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own enjoyment and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Arcturus was relieved to let Iago lead him away from the company of the Faux-Ceciley.

"I see you were busy making friends, Sir," said Iago.

"Just one of the local children being boyish," Arcturus replied. "That one was definitely part of the local color."

"The Mam was more interesting." said Iago.

"To put it mildly," said Arcturus.

"She certainly was picturesque," said Iago.

"Her face reminds me of a girl I remembered from Hogwarts seventy years ago," said Arcturus.

"May I ask who?" said Iago.

"Ceciley Clough," said Arcturus.

"I heard of her," said Iago. "She was the grandmother of one of my friends from school. She was murdered by Death-eaters when they attacked her daughter's home. Not a particularly good duelist, I was told, but good enough that she was able to buy enough time for her daughter to get a couple of her great-grandchildren out of the house before the Death eaters killed her."

"So that's what Madam Meade looked like when she was younger?" said Iago. That was a jarring thought.

"Minus the make-up and the tattoo, wearing decorous clothing, and of course missing the Texas accent," Arcturus replied.

"I think I'm going to buy some Muggle clothing for myself," said Iago. "It's a lot warmer than Britain and I'm uncomfortable even dressed in British Muggle clothing."

Arcturus followed his younger companion over to the men's clothing section of the store. Unlike most magical families, Iago had better fashion sense than most wizards; he had a talent for choosing good-looking clothing than made him look quite ordinary, a useful talent when passing through Muggle areas. Iago quickly found a couple of plaid shirts in his size that wouldn't look too far out of place on a Muggle street in Britain. He avoided the shirts with the snap-type buttons.

He watched Iago try on shirts for a while, then thought back to Ceciley, and then to the woman he'd just seen with Ceciley's face and her son. Was that boy really named Butthead? He'd seen and given out some awful nicknames when he was a boy at Hogwarts, but the nicknames usually were left behind at the front door of his family's houses. Not that anyone would dare nickname a member of the Noble and Ancient House of Black "Butthead."

"I'll need shoes," said Arcturus. They went back to the childrens' clothing section and Iago suggested some canvas shoes with rubber soles in Arcturus' polyjuiced size. The older wizard agreed. He might not wear such shoes in England, but they were inexpensive and they did make him look like a Muggle.

He'd hoped he'd seen the last of the Faux-Ceciley, but it was not to be. As he and Iago waited in the queue to be rung up and sent on their way, the Faux-Ceciley and her entourage fell in right behind them.

And there was the git again.

"Unh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh," said the little boy.

"Like, is Art your name, or is it like, uh, Tom Fart," he asked.

Arcturus thought about some bold wizard attempting to nickname the Dark Lord Tom Fart and decided that he'd give the idiot credit for the nickname. This time he'd try to ignore him.

The git poked him again and with considerable reluctance, Arcturus decided that he couldn't ignore him after all. Sooner or later the little dullard would realize that while his eyes were telling him that Arcturus was wearing a shirt, his fingers were telling him that Arcturus was naked above his waist. Which he was.

"Piss off!" said Arcturus.

"Butt munch," the boy replied.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" said a loud female voice from the queue for the next register. Arcturus took an instant dislike to the woman. It wasn't simply the woman's appearance, the woman's demeanor, her dress, or her tone of voice, but the entire ensemble.

"Madam, I told that boy to piss off," he said. Iago was alarmed. He recognized that tone of voice: it was far less than a shout, but it meant that the dark wizard was in high dudgeon.

"HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME!" cried the woman. "And how dare you use curse words!"

There were times when Arcturus hated being a responsible adult. He wished for Ambisagrus alone knew how many times that the Statutes of International Secrecy would take a temporary lapse. Then he could pull out his wand and start hexing.

"Madam," said Iago, "This is not your child."

"If you were any sort of father, you'd force him to stop even thinking about raising his voice to his elders!" said Maisie Carrew. "Children's mind ought to be molded into righteous thinking."

"I'm sorry, Madam," said Iago. "He does have a mind of his own."

"Spare the rod and spoil the child!" said Maisie Carrew, speaking as if that was a truism.

"Too late for that," said Iago straight-faced. "I fear he could well be set in his ways. Sometimes I think he's incorrigible."

Arcturus glanced over at the Faux-Ceciley and her entourage. They wouldn't cause trouble like he'd feared. They were enjoying the show. In fact, they looked positively captivated by Iago's exchange with the old biddy.

"That boy will die an early death and be subject to Hellfire and damnation!" declared Maisie Carrew.

"No, Madam, I am certain this little fellow will survive to a ripe and wicked old age," said Iago.

"You should spank him in public for swearing!" Maisie Carrew replied, becoming aware that she was losing control of the situation.

"Madam, I believe that child discipline is a family matter and best ought to be handled in private," said Iago. "I assure you that you won't invited to watch."

The clerk gave up trying to act professionally. This English guy was just too much. She started chortling. The guy was funny, she wished he'd stick around, but this was turning into a situation. Suppressing an inward sigh, she picked up the phone next to her cash register.

"Security to cash register four, please," she said.

The security guard appeared a little under a minute later. He recognized the Carrew woman and frowned. He'd had a previous run-in with her; he'd busted her oldest kid for shop-lifting and she'd pitched a fit about his innocence.

"This boy was cursing," said Maisie, pointing at Arcturus.

 _I was not cursing_ , thought Arcturus. _I was using coarse language._ _If I was cursing, you old cow, you'd certainly know it._

"So your little boy was using bad language?" said the security guard to Iago.

"The dear lady over there seems to think so," said Iago in a tone of voice that suggested doubt and that the woman had been tetched. "Of course I disagree. "

The security guard looked at the young offender. The English boy looked back at him with the sort of angry glare an grown man gives someone who crossed him.

For some reason the security guard didn't know, he decided he liked this kid. He did not put up with crap from adults. He squatted down to Arcturus' eye-level and said "Son, clean up your act. Guys your age aren't supposed to use foul language, especially around ladies," then silently mouthed "Even when they have it coming."

"Yes, sir," Arcturus said in a meek tone of voice.

"These people about rung up?" he asked the cashier.

"Just about," said the cashier.

"And I have my eye on you," the security guard said to Butthead. He recognized that kid from earlier visits. He wasn't allowed to come in the store without a responsible adult anymore.

"Aren't you going to do anything about this man and that filthy-mouthed brat?" asked Maisie Carrew indignantly.

"Nope," the security guard replied. "They're about paid up and I reckon they're gonna leave the store."

"I'll have words with the little tyke out in the parking lot about his language," Iago cut in. "Would that be satisfactory?"

"Yep," said the security guard, ignoring Maisie Carrew's impotent death-glare.

"OK, finish ringing them up," said the security guard to the checker.

He turned his attention back to Iago and Arcturus. He winked at Arcturus. "Then vamoose," he said

Butthead watched the grown-ups with open-mouthed awe. He didn't understand half of the things that the English guy said to old lady Carrew, but he did know that the English guy made her look stupid. He watched the English guy walk towards the store exit and leave.

"Whoaaa," he said. "That was cool."

Arcturus and Iago left Kicker's with their purchases, oblivious to the dirty looks that Maisie Carrew was sending in their direction. Neither said anything to each other until both were seated in the rental car.

"Admit it, young Hook," said Arcturus. "You enjoyed that."

"A gentleman never tells, Sir," Iago blandly replied.

Arcturus used the limited privacy of their rental car to don his new Muggle clothing. His childrens' shoes were of canvas with rubber soles, but still felt tight and uncomfortable. He made an internal shrug; that was often the problem with new footwear, sometimes even after house elves broke it in.

"Where to next, sir?" asked Iago.

"Whirlwind Drive," said Arcturus.

They pulled up to the kerb outside 1540 a few minutes later and there she was. His great-granddaughter was out on her front lawn playing a game of three-way catch with her two younger sisters. She glanced at him looking at her from the passenger car window, then went back to her ball game.

He thought to ask Iago to let him out here so he could attempt to talk to her, but then her mother came out of the house's front door. Her mother then gathered all three of them up, loaded them into her automobile, and got ready to drive off to run some errand

"Should we wait for her return?" asked Iago.

"No," replied Arcturus. "Let's call it a morning. We'll try again this afternoon."

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Arcturus had a surprise when he walked into the hotel lobby. There was a handwritten note with his name on it waiting at the hotel's receptionist's desk. It was from Buford Thorngrove, the MACUSA commissioner who served the area around Highland. He sighed: it looked like he'd have to talk with the local panjandrum. The note gave a time and a place, a café several blocks down the street. Arcturus accompanied Iago back to his hotel room, took off his new clothes, then swallowed polyjuice antidote.

Dressed in adult clothing again, he spent lunch chatting with Buford Thorngrove, an aging wizard who worked in this part of Texas for MACUSA. After conversing with him for a quarter of an hour, Arcturus decided that Thorngrove was an old duffer who should have been put out to pasture long ago. Albus Dumbledore might play the role of an old dodderer, but Arcturus decided that this Thorngrove fellow was living it. However, Thorngrove was a power in these parts, and Arcturus decided that it would be politic to continue talking with the American wizard.

Still, if Arcturus was irritated by the official summons, he learned a lot about the magical community around Highland. There were few wizards and witches in or near Highland itself; of those, most of the wizards and witches were either Mexicans or of Mexican descent. Of those that weren't of Mexican descent, most were descended from wizards who'd come from the British Isles in the eighteenth century or from European immigrants who came over in the next. Few of them actually lived in town; most of them tended to live ten to fifteen miles away, nestled in small pockets between Muggle farms and ranches. In his opinion, Thorngrove was not much of an occulemens; nor was he as attentive as he should have been. He was able to tell that Thorngrove hadn't taken any notice of any strange goings-on on Whirlwind Drive and hadn't a clue that Helen Morgendorffer's oldest daughter might be a witch.

The American wizard did recommend a local café, one with a Spanish name. It was called Los Girasoles. Thorngrove said it served good breakfasts and would give Arcturus and Iago a chance to sample some of the local wizarding community's color.

Iago stood up to excuse himself. Thorngrove made no objection, and Iago exited the hotel restaurant to take a short stroll. He hoped that Arcturus could bear the presence of Thorngrove while he got up and stretched his legs.

Iago had stepped out of the café and on to the front sidewalk outside the small café and the other storefronts that shared the block. Somehow he'd attracted the notice of a pair of this small, desolate community's urchins. He spotted them standing a short distance away. "Don't call me Lourdes, said the darker-complexioned girl to the lighter-skinned one. "I'm Lolita. And you're not Tammy Mae, you're Tanqueray."

The girls broke up their discussion and turned their attention to him. "Hi," said the brunette urchine. "I'm Lolita and this is Tanquerary. We were wondering if you would like to be our boyfriend and take us places and stuff."

Iago looked down with disapproval at the two young girls. _How old were they_ , he wondered. _Eight, nine, perhaps ten?_ These two were clearly tarts-in-the-making. They were also far too young to play these sorts of games, he thought disapprovingly. The girls looked back at him with hopeful expressions, waiting for his response.

"Actually I have a better idea," said Iago. "I will put each of you over my knee in turn and then spank you within inches of your lives." He looked at each girl in the eye and gave them his best sinister smile. . It was not a nice one. It was a smile laden with menace.

This was _not_ the answer they expected. The two girls looked in Iago in disbelief at what he'd just said, then at each other, then again at Iago, realizing in growing horror that he could well be serious.

"Excuse me, but we gotta go now," said Tanqueray. "Nice to meet you. Bye." The girls scampered out of sight.

Meanwhile, Arcturus was still conversing with the aging American wizard, trying to conceal his real reason for visiting Highland. He thought he was successful; the American wizard's legilimency just wasn't that good.

Arcturus decided to ask a question that had been bothering him since he'd left the area around Dallas Fort Worth International Airport.

"Who is Anton Chigurh?" he asked.

"Where did you hear that name?" Thorngrove asked suspiciously.

"In a conversation at a restaurant near the airport in Dallas," Arcturus replied. "My companion was caught up in robbery there and the wizard who rescued him said that the other gunman was no Anton Chigurh."

"I wish you hadn't heard that name," said Buford Thorngrove, shaking his head. The American wizard sat silently for a moment, frowned, and said "All right, I'll tell you."

"Anton Chigurh was a notorious Habanero killer and gunman who ran loose in the borderlands and this part of Texas for several years. During his career he managed to kill no less than ten wizards and witches as well as about fifty to sixty non-magicals that we know about. He probably killed more. During his last encounter with the Marshals, Chigurh killed one and severely wounded the other one.

"He's dead, thank heavens. A seventeen year-old witch finally managed to kill him with luck and the right spell work back in October. We don't like talking about him. A lot of people don't like even saying his name. They think it brings bad luck."

Thorngrove stood up a little while later and said that he had errands to run for his wife. They both stood up and left the table, Thorngrove paying at the cash register.

"Where to next?" asked Iago.

"Whirlwind Drive," said Arcturus. "Time to have another go at it."

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Author's notes:

Lord Aylesford was a real-life person. He was once a prominent land-owner and absentee cattleman in the area around real-life Big Spring, Texas. I named the fictitious Hotel Aylesford after him.

Ambisagrus was a pre-Christian Celtic god of thunder, lightning, wind and hail.

Anton Chigurh was the scary villain of Cormac McCarthy's _No Country For Old Men_. I'd wondered how well such a dangerous man would fare in a Potterverse filled with hexing and cursing wizards and witches and decided that he'd fare all too well. Real-life Big Spring, Texas, the model for my version of Highland, is about sixty four miles east of Odessa, Texas, one of the places mentioned in the McCarthy novel.

I brought up Chigurh's name in part as homage to Cormac McCarthy. I also wanted to emphasize just how distant Highland, Texas, even the wizarding part of Highland, was from the British wizarding world of canon _Harry Potter_ in both distance and mindset.


	16. Chapter 16

No Country For Unpleasant Old Men Lemonade Afternoon.

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*

"Where to next?" asked Iago.

"Whirlwind Drive," said Arcturus. "Time to have another go at it."

Arcturus and Iago walked back to their hotel room, and Arcturus stripped, swallowed more polyjuice, then put on his Muggle child's clothes. Iago decided to err on the side of caution. He put a glamour on the rental car that disguised its color.

Iago parked the car several blocks away, near the edge of a half-wild open field. There was a barbed-wire fence about ten feet away from the curb. The field was overrun by short trees with small green leaves that, unlike English trees and bushes, provided little shade. One of the trees had branches that overhung the barbed-wire fence. Arcturus was surprised to see that these trees also had sharp thorns. Still curious, Arcturus studied the field some more and was amused to see several low-slung cactus plants with prickly leaves that looked like paddles. A brown and dun colored lizard looked at him curiously, then scampered out of sight.

Arcturus was pleased to see that here were some wildflowers out. He saw a scattering of blue and white flowers that the literature told him were called bluebonnets; he could see that they were related to lupins. There were also some red ones, some with bands of yellow and red, others with large black pistls and droopy yellow leaves.

He crossed the street and started walking towards the Morgendorffer house. About a block away from his starting point, he was amused to see a snake slithering across the street in the opposite direction about thirty feet away. _Greetings, brother_ , he thought. It only took him a couple of minutes to reach the Morgendorffers'. To his regret, his great-granddaughter was not in her yard. One of the Morgendorffer cars was missing. Arcturus didn't know if that meant his great granddaughter was at home or away.

Discouraged, he decided to take a walk around some of the side streets. If he couldn't talk to her directly, maybe he could get some sort of sense of the neighborhood where she was living. He walked down several blocks, took a right down another street, then took a left turn and kept going. Something told him to turn right. To his amusement, there was a young girl sitting at a table next to the sidewalk. The table had a couple of pitchers of some light-green liquid bracketed by a couple of crude signs saying "Lemonade: 50 cents a glass."

As Arcturus drew closer, he was delighted to see that the girl was his great-granddaughter.

"Hello," he said, extending his hand. "I'm William Bartlett."

The girl looked back at him, deciding whether she would be friendly or give him the brush-off. She decided that she'd tolerate his presence. Arcturus supposed that it was probably because of his English accent.

She took his hand and shook it without flinching. _Good_ , Arcturus thought. A battered or bullied child would almost certainly flinch.

"How do you do?" she said. "I'm Daria Morgendorffer."

"Do you live around here?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "My house is a few blocks over."

"Are you selling a lot of lemonade?" he asked.

"Not much," said the girl. "This is a lousy location. It isn't all that hot outside and there isn't that much traffic on this side street."

"So why then are you at this lemonade stand?" asked Arcturus.

"It's not my lemonade stand," said Daria. "It's my sister's friend's older sister's lemonade stand. I'm just holding the fort until one of them comes back out here. I'm supposed to keep an eye on her for my Mom."

"Wouldn't you do better to go inside, then?" said Arcturus.

"Well, Sis is with the Jessups and unless they're conjuring demons or something, I doubt she'll get into too much trouble," said Daria.

Arcturus was certain that his great granddaughter's younger sister wasn't magical, and he doubted that these Jessups were magical either.

"You don't sound like you're from around here," she said, looking at Arcturus. "Are you English?"

"Yes, I've just come over from Britain," he said.

"Lucky you," said Daria. "You've just moved into one of the arm-pits of the Lone Star State."

"It looks picturesque," he replied.

"It has its charms, at least if you like football or, if you're a girl, you want to learn to wave pom-poms or get on the drill team when you get to high school. The charm lasts for a couple of days, then the charm wears out and you get to see the innate boredom and stupidity."

"I admit this isn't the most prosperous town I've ever visited," he said.

"No, but if you could export the stupid, this would be the richest town in Texas," she said.

He reached in his pocket. Fortunately Iago had suggested that he carry some Muggle money. Children didn't often carry much money, but they might carry a little.

"Could I have a glass of lemonade, please?" he said.

He put the one dollar bill on the counter. She took the bill, poured him a glass of the green liquid, then gave him a couple of coins as change. He tasted it; the Jessups must have made it with the local water, but it tasted lemony.

"Not a lot of cleaver people to converse with, then," said Arcturus.

"There are a few people worth talking to," she said. "I made friends with them when I was taking ballet class. What scares me is that other than that, we don't really have that much in common."

 _She took ballet classes_ , he thought.

"Not a town for intellectuals, then," he said.

He saw her expression and realized that he'd made a mistake. He remembered ruefully that most eight year-olds not only acted liked children, but thought like them too. Most eight year old didn't have big vocabularies.

She studied him for a moment and filed it away somewhere in her brain. If she'd been raised in a wizarding family, she'd already have run for her parents knowing that he was either using a glamour or polyjuice. _Muggle-raised_ , he told himself, _Muggle-raised_.

"A lot of people go to the churches around here and they either never had a thought of their own, or if they convert or decide to get serious, they decide that thinking for themselves is a sin. Of course some of these churches also think that dancing is a sin. If so, I must already be on the road to hell for taking ballet lessons."

"Do you still take ballet?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I hurt my knee during the Holiday Pageant and I got to spend the next couple of months in a leg-brace with crutches. By the time I got well, enough students and parents got so fed up with the teacher that she got fired and had to leave town. Unfortunately, nobody has come in to step up to the plate."

"Would you go back if there was?" he said.

She sat there thinking. "Yes," she said. "I don't have any illusions that I'd become a professional ballerina or anything, and I don't have the determination to become one, but it was fun and I really enjoyed it."

"How many sisters and brothers do you have?" he asked.

"Two," she said. "My younger sister is going to be whirling around in society, and I wouldn't put it past Ronnie if she becomes a track star."

"How many do you have?" she asked.

"I have a sister and a brother," said Arcturus. "My sister is named Licoris. My brother is named Regulus."

There was a star named Regulus, she knew. _But what sort of an idiot would name their daughter Licoris?_ _A girl_ _with that nickname would be a target for instant ridicule here in Highland._

"So why did your parents name your sister Licoris?" asked Daria. "Any kid who got sent to Ferguson with that handle would trip over themselves to find something else for people to call them."

"My family is enthusiastic about astrology, I mean astronomy," he replied.

She didn't miss his slip of the tongue, but again, she said nothing.

"And so the world lost its chance to have another Betsy, Dolly, or Jean Ann," she replied.

"I saw some wildflowers in a field several streets over," he said. "There were some blue and white ones that look like lupins. What are they called?"

"Those are probably Bluebonnets," said Daria. "They're part of the Lupin family."

"I also saw some red flowers, and some other ones that had read and yellow petals," said Arcturus. "You wouldn't know what those are called, would you?"

"The yellow and red ones are called Indian Blanket flowers," said Daria. "The red ones are called Indian Paintbrush. If you like wildflowers, you'd better get a good look at them now while you have the chance. You've already missed the height of the Bluebonnet season and the others are going to go fast. They'll all be gone in a couple of weeks and you'll have to wait until next year."

"Are there any sport teams around here?" he asked. He'd learned just enough about Muggle sports in Britain from Iago to think that he was on safe ground.

"For boys, football, track, basketball, baseball, those are the big ones," said Daria.

"That's American football, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Daria. "The one played with helmets, shoulder pads, and no brains. International football is called soccer. A lot of the kids whose parents moved up from Mexico want to play it, but the PE coaches aren't doing much to promote it. They don't think that soccer is a game for white people, so it doesn't have much status."

"Don't the girls have sports or dance or something?" he asked.

"I don't like most girls' sports," she said. "I don't like volleyball. I don't like kickball that much. Basketball doesn't interest me too much, and I doubt I'll ever be tall enough to get on a team. I don't like softball that much either."

"What I'd really like to do," she said the traces of a feral grin showing on her face, "is play hardball." Her expression changed. "But they don't let girls play. They think it's unladylike." She made a scowl that reminded him of Walburga when she disapproved of something.

Arcturus reproached himself. He should have done more research about American Muggle children. Magical or not, his great granddaughter was growing up as Muggle child.

"Don't you want to join so you can be with your mates afterwards?" he said.

"Not really," said Daria. "I might want to join if the sport interests me, but I'm not that interested in what a lot of the girls do afterwards. We aren't even twelve yet and they're already talking about beauty products and boys. I'd sooner go home and read."

 _Not a social girl_ , then, he thought. That might cause some problems when she moved out into society. On the other hand, she not only showed that she had a sense of humor, but that there was a keen wit behind her own comments.

He'd used a little legilemency on her while they conversed. He could tell that sports didn't interest her them much.

"What about you?" she asked. "What does your father do?"

"He invests," he said. "He's looking to buy land around here and raise cattle." There, he thought. That should be safe.

"He'd do better elsewhere," said Daria. "We have hot summers and a lot of droughts, and droughts aren't good for ranchers. Nobody's interested in buying dead cows out in the fields. I'd try Montana. I want to build a cabin there one day."

Arcturus could feel his cover story fraying with this extremely clever, inquisitive girl. The Jessups' front door opened and Arcturus saw three girls come out. One was the red-headed girl that Arcturus knew was his great granddaughter's younger sister. The others, he surmised, must be the Jessup sisters.

"So Daria, who's this guy?" asked the older Jessup girl.

"My name is William," he said hastily. "William Bartlett. Pleased to meet you."

He realized that his meeting with his great granddaughter could turn into a fiasco in moments. Perhaps it was time to withdraw. He looked at his wrist and realized that he wasn't wearing his wrist-watch. The older Jessup girl had one, though.

"Excuse me," he said, "but what time is it?"

"It's about a quarter to four," said the Jessup girl.

"Oh, dear," he said. "I'm late, and my dad is going to kill me. Nice to meet you." He smiled at the girls, nodded his head politely, then turned away. He took a slightly different route back to where Iago and the parked car were waiting.

He thought about what he had learned. The girl looked healthy and well-treated. She didn't show any obvious signs of physical or emotional abuse: she didn't flinch when she shook his hand. She also showed that she was well aware of the larger world and that she was intellectually curious. That might be a plus. There weren't many obvious Black physical traits, although the girl's scowl made him think of Walburga. This girl was not Walburga; Walburga knew what she knew and no amount of argument or evidence to the contrary could convince her otherwise. If anything, during the last decade or so before her family's ruin, Walburga had grown even more intense in her beliefs, going so far as becoming one of Voldemort's supporters and encouraging young Regulus to join them.

Iago was waiting for him when he returned to where he'd parked the card. "So what happened, sir?" asked Iago.

"Not much," said Arcturus. "I did get to talk to the girl. She seems to be well-treated and in good health."

"My Mum told me that sometimes that's the best you can hope for," said Iago.

"I did learn a bit more than that," said Arcturus, allowing himself an open smile. "The girl is extremely intelligent, with a good head on her shoulders. It's a little frightening: the girl is only eight years old and was seeing though my disguise. "

"Surely she wasn't able to penetrate your charm and see what you looked like," said Iago.

"No, but I was forced to realize that my eight year old persona was inadequate. The girl was clever enough to begin seeing through my masquerade. Another four minutes and it would have fallen apart."

"That doesn't sound entirely bad, sir," said Iago. "It sounds like the girl has a good mind."

"I had hoped to discover whether the girl is magical or not," said Arcturus.

"After this war, I sometimes wonder if it might be safer to be a Squib and be well-removed far from Britain's magical world," said Iago.

Iago's comment surprised Arcturus. This was not the sort of sentiment he expected, particularly from someone from a long-established magical family.

"So how was your afternoon?" asked Arcturus.

"It started out as a bore, but I did get to see an Armadillo," said Iago. "One wandered out of the field and across the street. They're extraordinary-looking creatures with an armored shell and a long snout. I'd have thought they were as extraordinary as some of the magical creatures in Fantastic Beasts, except they're supposed to be commonplace in these parts."

"I also got joined by a couple of ghosts," he continued.

"Were they American frontiersmen?" asked Arcturus.

"No, they were both Indians," said Iago. "They were Comanches, a man and a woman."

"I thought that I'd be unable to converse with them, but apparently they both spoke Spanish. I learned they didn't think very much of Europeans, they still hated Texans and thought they were stupid, and they didn't like Mexicans either. We talked about tribal customs for a bit. Then one of them, the woman, asked me what I was doing here."

"What did you tell her?" asked Arcturus.

"I told her that you'd gone to see the daughter of an old friend," said Iago.

"Did she believe you?" said Arcturus.

"I don't think she did," said Iago. "She seemed to think that you were looking for your granddaughter."

That cursed ghost was too perceptive. That was the real reason he had come to this place.

"The fables create out of nothing," said Arcturus dismissively. He hoped that young Hook believed him.

"Let's go back to our hotel," he said.

He sat in the rear seat thinking as Iago drove back to the Hotel Aylesford. He still wondered if the girl had any magic, and what she would do with it if her magical abilities began to manifest. If she had that streak of madness that occasionally manifested in the Black family bloodline, most recently with Bella, she hid it well. This girl was surprisingly well-grounded, especially for a child her age.

Could it be that the girl would perform accidental magic, yet let her very Muggle worldview override what her mind and senses told her? He wished he had friends and allies in this small, desolate town.

He decided that it wouldn't do for him to visit the Morgendorffer house again, at least not this evening.

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Author's notes:

Highland/Big Spring is deep inside what was once Comanche territory. The Comanche Indians did hold sway over the South Plains from about the late 1700's until they were broken by the US Cavalry in the 1870's. Extremely talented and mobile horse-warriors, the Comanches not only raided Texas and other US frontiers, but also raided deep into Mexico, carrying back loot, horses, and captives. In fact the Comanches were so adept against the Mexican Army that Comanche raiding parties reached deep into Maya country, almost to or perhaps even past the Mexican—Guatemalan border.

Iago could speak Spanish to the Comanche ghosts. I believe my research did show that at least some Comanches were fluent in Spanish, due to language lessons from their Mexican captives and to trade as well as raid the Hispanic peoples of New Mexico and Mexico proper.

While working on this section, I realized that late April is still wildflower season for this part of Texas, although the prime for bluebonnets had passed.

Armadillos are real creatures, and I tried to use a yellow king snake as the creature Arcturus saw slithering across the street.


	17. Chapter 17

Daria Ravenclaw No Country For Unpleasant Old Men

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

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He went downstairs with the idea of having a quiet meal in the hotel's restaurant and perhaps a solitary drink at the hotel's bar. When Arcturus emerged in the lobby, he found that the hotel's ballroom had been taken over by a wedding reception and that the celebrants had overrun the lobby and the hotel's restaurant, and that some of them had encroached on the hotel's bar.

Several decades ago, he would have found such a celebration uplifting and a re-affirmation of life and continuity, even if he was watching such a celebration at a remove. A newly-married couple, their families, their friends, small children, their new in-laws: all of these were manifestations of love, life, and family and showed not only the joy of newly-married life but also the promise of a fruitful future. But listening to the music and snatches of conversation and watching the celebrants reminded him of the state of his own family: a handful of aging and elderly wizards and witches, their progeny estranged, married to enemies, or in Azkaban, and no children and precious little hope. This was not what he wanted for the Noble and Ancient House of Black: if he had his wish, his children would still be alive and he would be having the joy of making acquaintance of his numerous great-grandchildren. He returned upstairs and had room service deliver him a meal, served with a mediocre-quality bottle of wine recommended by the barman.

Iago told him that he wanted to dine downstairs, and that he'd probably return later that evening. Arcturus told him about his encounter with the ghost he'd encountered during their first evening in Highland and her warning about the would-be robber; Iago said that he would be careful, and stepped out into the hotel corridor.

Arcturus sat there brooding. A thought occurred to him. Well, if he couldn't or shouldn't go to Whirlwind Drive, he might be able to send someone else.

"Kreacher, I want you to go into that house this evening and look around," he said. "If the girl shows any sign of magical ability, I want you to take note and then return here and tell me."

Kreacher knew very well the real reason Master Arcturus was interested in the red-haired girl. He also knew which house Master Arcturus wished him to visit. He also knew the real reason why Master Arcturus was was interested in the auburn-haired girl who lived there. The girl was the daughter of Master Sirius, the ungrateful, disloyal son who broke his mother's heart and a Muggle woman that Master Sirius had found while carousing in squalid Muggle company.

Master Arcturus never asked him about what he thought about the auburn-haired girl, but Kreacher had his own private opinion about the young girl. Kreacher thought that she was unworthy to be a daughter of the House of the House of Black. The girl was the daughter of blood-traitor Master Sirius. Worse, the girl's blood was tainted by the foul blood of her Muggle mother. Even if the girl had had good intentions and vowed to uphold Pureblood Supremacy, her own blood was irrevocably corrupted by the taint of her Muggle mother's origins. At best, the girl would only be a half-blood. And the Noble and Ancient House of Black had always been a house of pure-blooded wizards and witches.

As horrible as the girl's blood status would be, the auburn-haired girl's attitude would be even worse. None of the local wizards and witches Kreacher had seen had shown proper deference to the exalted and pure-blooded wizards of the House of Black, and growing up in this place, the girl would contract the local rabbles' attitudes. She had no idea as to what it meant to be a true daughter of the noble and ancient house of Black, and Kreacher saw no way that the girl was going to learn in this pest-hole of snakes, Muggles, and spraying creatures.

That Master Arcturus, _Master Arcturus!,_ was turning away from the proper attitude towards blood purity was dismaying. True, Mistress Walburga gave into the idea that the girl was the heiress of the Noble and Ancient House of Black during the last days of her life, but Kreacher believed that her change of heart came about through weakness caused by fear of death and the fear that the Noble and Ancient House of Black would die out with her death.

"Filthy spawn of filth and slime…," said Kreacher. "That the House of Black should mingle with the blood of…"

"Do as I say, or you _**will**_ be punished," said Arcturus in a firm tone of voice.

The house elf apparated into the Morgendorffers' back yard. Unlike his master, Kreacher had no idea as to how the Muggles living there had placed their furniture and he had no desire to alert them to his presence by knocking over Muggle furniture and nick-nacks.

By luck, Kreacher could tell that the girl was not in the house at all, but sleeping in a tent pitched in the backyard with the Muggle she thought of as her father. Kreacher sniffed not once, but twice in disgust at the thought of a witch living in a Muggle house, and sniffed again in disgust at the thought of a witch considering _any_ Muggle to be her father.

"That the House of Black should mingle with the blood of…" he muttered. Oh, the shame of it.

Kreacher walked up to the edge of the tent and peered through the mosquito netting.

House elves were inferior to humans. Kreacher knew this and believed it with all his heart. Still, Kreacher knew that house elves had better night-vision and a better sense of smell than humans, even wizards and witches. He walked up to the edge of the tent and peered through the mosquito netting. He sniffed again to see what he could learn. He could smell the adult Muggle, oh yes, and he could also smell the young girl. She was still a child, still several years before she'd begin to change from a child into a woman. To his chagrin, he could also sense the young girl's magical core. Far below the girl's awareness, it stirred slightly in response to the house elf's presence. It was a powerful core. Mudblood or no, this girl would grow up to be a powerful witch.

Daria awoke in the middle of the night. She wasn't too sure what time it was; she didn't have her watch on and she didn't have her glasses handy. She heard the sounds of something sniffing outside the tent and sighed in irritation. It was probably a dog of some sort, probably the Hawleys'. The Hawleys lived next door, and had had a pesky black dog about the size of a boxer named Digger. Digger frequently dug its way under the fence separating the Hawley's house from the Morgendorffers' back yard. That was bad enough, but the darn dog had the habit of digging holes and pooping on the grass and occasionally on the patio.

"What're you looking at?" she said.

"That Ill-bred child should be an heir to a noble and ancient house," muttered the dog in mourning and disgust.

"What do you say?" said Daria, still partially asleep but suspicious that this dog-thing was insulting her.

"So it speaks," the dog-thing said sardonically.

 _What, the Hawleys' dog could_ talk, thought Daria. _This was getting into weirdsville_. She felt around her sleeping bag and the bottom of her tent to search for her eyeglasses. To her consternation, she couldn't find them. She hated it when that happened. That made her prone to what Cindy Wise used to call her Mr. Magoo moments.

"Ill-bred daughter of muck and rabble," the dog-thing croaked. "That such a girl would dare pretend…"

"I wouldn't talk about breeding if I were you," Daria cut in. "You're no show-dog."

"Daughter of a disloyal, worthless son…" the dog-thing began.

"I've got news for you, short stuff," Daria cut in again, "This girl doesn't like people talking trash about her and her dad."

"Kreacher does not believe that the girl is worthy of the house of…" said Kreacher.

"The next comment you make, I'm breaking out the rolled-up newspaper," Daria interrupted.

The dog didn't take the hint. "That the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black should mingle its seed with such common stock…" it began.

That tore it. Daria pulled out the rolled-up newspaper she'd taken out to the tent just in case Digger would find yet another way under the fence and into the Morgendorffers' yard and started whacking it against her palm.

"I'm giving you to Three to shut up and clear out of here," said Daria. She resumed whacking the rolled-up newspaper against her palm for emphasis.

"One."

"Two."

Instead of shuffling off to the side of the yard and presumably back under the Hawleys' fence to safety, whatever-it-was disappeared with a popping noise.

The popping noise woke him up. Jake Morgendorffer turned over and looked at his girl. "Daria," he said, "were you talking to somebody?"

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men

Author's note: Mr. Magoo (aka Quincy Magoo) was a popular US children's cartoon back in the 1950's and 1960's. Mr. Magoo had very poor vision, required eyeglasses to see properly, but was too proud to wear them. This led to all sorts of incidents, accidents, and misunderstandings.


	18. Chapter 18

Daria No Country Saturday Night And Sunday Morning

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

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Kreacher reappeared in the hotel room.

"Well?" said Arcturus.

"Kreacher was a bad elf, master," said the aged elf apologetically. "Kreacher tried to question the girl and she threatened him with a rolled-up newspaper like Miss Walburga used to do."

Arcturus' first thought was that it was a pity the girl didn't let fly with the newspaper. His next thought was that the cursed house elf had chosen to disobey him and deliberately botched his assignment. His anger surged, so much so that the windows rattled and the lights flickered, and only a little of it was directed at himself and at his daughter and son-in-law for allowing their infatuation with the Dark Lord and his promises to put the very existence of the House of Black at risk; more was directed at Kreacher for disobedience, his continuing belief in Voldemort's extreme Pure Blood doctrines, and for jeopardizing the very future of the House of Black.

"You have one chance to mitigate your punishment, sirrah," said Arcturus. "You must tell me if the girl has a magical core and if she does, you must tell me if it is a strong core or a weak one."

"The half-blood girl's core is a weak one," said Kreacher, "the core of a Squib."

Arcturus was almost certain that Kreacher was lying to him. Still, even if Kreacher was telling the truth, Arcturus had been impressed with her. Perhaps there might still be a way to make an alliance with her or her mother. He might need contacts and allies in the Muggle world. He set aside that train of thought and grimly returned to the matter at hand.

"As I said before, if you disobeyed me, you _**will**_ be punished," he said grimly.

He used his wand to create a pile of sharp-edged pebbles, then used more wand-magic to flick them into a corner. "Go stand on those while I think of just how to punish you," he said grimly.

Kreacher walked over and stood on the pebbles, their sharp edges pressing painfully into his bare feet. Arcturus watched dispassionately the house elf attempted to cope with the pain while he silently raged at the house elf's disobedience, then plotted the house elf's further punishment.

He used his wand to conjure a long, thin, supple switch, the sort of cane used to thrash disobedient or rule-breaking schoolboys back in his youth. He'd administer at least a dozen strokes later. But first, but first…He thought about his next action while Kreacher began to fidget in pain as the stones cut into the bottoms of his feet. Yes, the Stinging Hex would make a fine overture.

He ignored the clock while he punished the house elf. He knew that he was done, and that that the switch had blood on it where he'd broken the house elf's skin. He ignored the house elf's whimpering, dissolved the switch into ashes, and vanished the hotel bath towel Kreacher had laid on while he switched him.

Arcturus usually cared about his house elves' well-being and tried not to abuse them. Not this evening. Kreacher's whimpering bothered him not at all. The house elf's disobedience had threatened the very continuity of the Noble and Ancient House of Black and was intolerable. He helped himself to a stiff drink from Iago's whisky bottle, went to the bathroom, swallowed his potions, brushed his teeth, and then went to bed.

He had a bad dream that evening. He dreamt that he was attending a Pure Blood wizards' ball. He and Melania were there, of course. But Ceciley Clough was there, so were Pollux's and Drusilla's children, and so were their children. All of the children he saw were beautiful, well-dressed young wizards and witches, looking like the epitome of what Pure Blooded high society thought that young wizards and witches ought to look and dress.

One of the younger wizards made a joke. His companion laughed, but it wasn't the sort of laughter found in genteel society; instead it was the moronic "Uh, huh, uh, huh, huh, uh, huh, huh, huh, huh" sound that he'd heard the little git make at Kicker's Boots that morning. Not only the companion thought that the wit's jape was funny, but so did the rest of the ballroom. Arcturus listened with dismay as the moronic laughter spread across the room like a gemino spell run wild, and he knew that the root cause was the pure-blooded families' excessive inbreeding.

He woke up with a start and found himself alone in his suite's bedroom. Iago had not chosen to return, and Kreacher was no doubt sleeping in the outer room after his punishment. He walked to the hotel bedroom's window and raised the curtain. He could no longer hear the sound of music from downstairs; the wedding reception was over. There was little to see outside except the streetlights of downtown Highland and one or two automobiles making their way from one place to another; the stars were obscured by a clouds that must have come up after sunset.

He returned to his bed and attempted to fall asleep again. Somehow, he succeeded, and fell into what he remembered later as a deep, dreamless sleep.

He woke up feeling discouraged. He'd managed to talk to his great-granddaughter, but he still didn't know for certain whether she had any magic or if she was just as barren of magic as any Squib or Muggle. He'd sent Kreacher to investigate, but he claimed that she was a Squib at most, and Arcturus wasn't entirely certain as to whether the house elf had been lying. Perhaps he should just play tourist this morning. Thinking about Kreacher's deliberate blundering gave him one consoling thought: at least the girl didn't suffer fools gladly.

He looked over at the other bed. Iago still hadn't returned. He hoped that the younger wizard hadn't run into trouble.

Iago reappeared after Arcturus had finished washing up and had dressed himself. He didn't trust the house elf to perform competently this soon after he punished him. This evening, perhaps, or tomorrow.

"Good morning, young Hook," said Arcturus. "I'm glad to see you up and about. The way things are here, I would have been disappointed to find out that you had been shot by a Muggle bandit and left for dead."

Kreacher walked into the bedroom behind Iago, carefully deferential to his Master. That didn't stop him from commenting, however.

"Master Iago was been out carousing with Muggles," said Kreacher disapprovingly. "I smell the Muggle woman's perfume and scent on his skin and clothing."

Iago looked at the house elf. His eyebrows rose at the bruising that peeped through the cracks in his tea towel. "What happened to Kreacher?" he said.

"Kreacher deliberately disobeyed my instructions for an important task I set out for him last night," Arcturus said grimly.

There were times during this trip that Iago ignored that the head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black was a dark wizard. Generally, the wizard had behaved with good manners and an extraordinary amount of restraint. He couldn't imagine Arcturus punishing Kreacher for minor infractions; the dark wizard must have felt severely provoked. "May I ask what sort of task?" asked Iago.

"No," said Arcturus coldly. "The subject is closed."

"Well, what's on the agenda for today?" asked Iago, changing the subject.

"First, I want breakfast, and then I think it's time to go see some of the sights this miserable town has to offer," said Arcturus. "There is supposed to be a park south of town called Big Spring," said Arcturus. "I'd like to go see it."

"With your permission, sir, I'd like to shower and change clothing first," said Iago.

Arcturus picked up the Texas guidebook he'd brought with him and began reading the scant information concerning Big Sprint and Big Spring State Park while Iago showered, shaved, and dressed.

Big Spring was once an aquifer-fed natural spring that once attracted a wide variety of grazing animals and other wildlife until Euro-American settlement in the 1880's. Years of aquifer depletion for irrigation and to fill the boilers of the Muggle railway's steam locomotives had caused the spring to nearly dry up. It still existed, but only because the Muggles pumped water from the remaining ground water to keep it filled. There was also a lake next to the highway, the tourist pamphlet said that the lake was artificial, and only dated to the 1930's; the real Big Spring was located further in the park.

Arcturus chose to eat breakfast downstairs this morning. He decided that Iago had a point about Texas heat and put on a pair of Muggle trousers and a Muggle shirt he'd had Kreacher pack back in Britain. Just after he sat down at his restaurant table, he saw a slightly-disheveled Muggle woman enter the restaurant, smile at Iago, spot him sitting with his young companion, blush, then turn away in embarrassment. Arcturus had to give young Hook credit, she was quite attractive.

He had Iago drive him to Big Spring State Park after breakfast. The big spring was located towards the back of the park, well away from the Muggle roadway. Iago parked the car under some shade trees. By the look of them, Arcturus suspected that they'd been planted about fifty years before.

"I gather you had a pleasant evening," he said. "You can rest here if you'd like. I think I'll just stroll around the park for a bit."

"Thank you, Sir," said Iago.

Iago rolled down the windows, let the seat back and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost before Arcturus turned away.

In spite of the spring's depletion and the park's man-made landscaping, Arcturus could easily imagine the spring as having been larger in the not-so-distant past and being a sort of oasis for grazing animals, and both land birds and water fowl. The buffalo herds that had once visited its shores were long gone, although he did see some recent deer tracks. That surprised him; he thought that American Muggles would blast game animals on sight, in town or in the pasture, regardless of the season.

He looked at the vegetation lining the walkways. Most of it look coarse, hairy, or thorny, although there were still a couple of wildflowers still out. He wasn't surprised to see what he'd learned were called prickly pear cactus or the short, thorny trees that he now knew were called mesquite.

He followed the pathway around a curve and down a dip and saw an oddly-dressed woman fussing over some unfamiliar plants not far from the edge. She saw him and reached for something in her handbag.

"Please don't," he said. He'd pulled out his own wand while the woman was getting hers clear of her handbag.

"Ah, a wizard," she said, and smiled. She pronounced it who-eez- ard. She continued to smile and put her wand back in her handbag.

Her name was Anna. Like a gentleman, Arcturus didn't ask her age but she appeared to be in her early sixties. She was born far to the south near a town named Kingsville, but despite the fact that she was born in Texas, her primary language was Spanish. Arcturus learned that Ana wasn't simply communing with nature, but was harvesting some of the few magical plants nearby.

He told her that he was from Britain and that he was unfamiliar with local magical plants and animals, and that he'd like to accompany her while she strolled and harvested.

He soon learned that there weren't that many magical plants in this part of Texas. Many of the ones that did exist needed more water than was usually available even a short distance away from a stream or a spring. Both the water-loving plants and the hardier ones that could endure the Texas heat and drought were still vulnerable to overgrazing and a Muggle herbicide Arcturus heard as Ground-up. She and a few of the local witches and wizards were attempting to preserve and cultivate the plants for future generations, but the plants' survival was still touch-and-go.

She also pointed out some of the few magical animals that lived in the park. Some of them were insects, but Ana showed him what looked like a very ordinary mottled dun-and-black lizard she insisted was a magical creature, howbeit a juvenile. The juvenile lizard stopped short on a branch of a nearby bush, and Ana insisted that there was an older one there. With a flick of her wand, she revealed a larger, very attractive, iridescent green-and-gold lizard with a large, pulsating throat sack.

Arcturus asked her about wizarding schools in this part of the world and how the local wizards and witches had their children educated. Ana replied that some of her family went to wizarding schools, but that she was unhappy with her grandchildren's choices.

"Some people wanna make the big school, Ilvermorny, be the only escuela de magic in the US," she said. "I think that's stupid. Ilvermorny is way far away, and my grandchildren who go there say it's too crowded."

Some of the kids here, they go to the Instituto in Campeche. But it's also far away, and some of us don't speak Spanish all that well. The Instituto wants to open a second school at Saddle Mountain, but they're having problemas raising money to open it."

"Beg pardon," said Arcturus. "The Instituto? I've never heard of it."

Ana smiled at him. Even without legilimency, he was sure he would have been able to hear her say "Gringo!" in her mind.

"The Instituto para el Estudio de las Artes y Ciencias Ocultas," she said. "It's in Campeche. It's the school for Mexican and Central American witches and wizards."

"So the witches and wizards of Mexico and Central America go to this Instituto to learn magic," he said.

"And also many of the wizards and witches who live on this side of the frontera," she said. "The Estados Unidos is a big country. Ilvermorny is big and too crowded."

Arcturus found this talk about the Instituto and the Saddle Mountain school intriguing. He'd been thinking about his legacy even before he decided to make this trip. As impossible as it would have seemed in his youth, the Noble and Ancient House of Black was likely as not to become extinct within ten years, especially if Kreacher had been telling the truth and the girl was naught but a Squib. If the Noble and Ancient House of Black died out with his grandson's death in Azkaban, Dumbledore would doubtless want him to use some of his fortune to endow Hogwarts.

Endowing Hogwarts would be a natural and expected thing for him to do. After all, his family had ties to Hogwarts that extended back centuries, even to the times that the four greats themselves—Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw—were teaching there. He'd been educated there himself, as had his wife and children.

But he didn't want to. He wasn't entirely sure that the Dark Lord was dead forever and aye; the b_d might well find a way to come back from the dead, and he owed the Death Eaters far too much to let them have the family fortune. He also found that he resented Dumbledore for not protecting young Regulus from the Death Eaters and for not doing more to keep young Sirius out of Azkaban.

He realized that he'd turned away from supporting Pure Blood Supremacy in his dreams. Nevertheless, he resented Dumbledore and how Dumbledore had treated his grandchildren. He still hated the Dark Lord and hated the Death Eaters, the dead, the imprisoned, and the free ones alike, and wasn't about to let his wealth go to fund their cause. This Saddle Mountain Academy would be a blank slate waiting for him to leave his mark upon it. He wanted something that said that there was once a great house of wizards and witches that was rightly called the Noble and Ancient House of Black, and here is their legacy. Why not use some of his wealth to endow this Saddle Mountain place?

He thought about Ana and her unmet grandchildren. He also thought about young Toby. Toby was a Black, even if he wasn't the right sort of Black. Why not give these provincials a reason to remember his name? He decided that he'd learn more about this Saddle Mountain school and, if it looked like a viable school, he'd see about using part of the Black Family fortune to endow it.

He continued to follow Ana around the park and then, after she'd finished harvesting her leaves, made his good-bye.


	19. Chapter 19

Daria Ravenclaw No Country Sunday Afternoon Prayer Time

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and associated characters are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

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Arcturus felt his spirits lifted after his visit with the local witch in the park. After waking Iago from his nap, Arcturus had him drive back towards the Hotel Aylesford. It being early Sunday afternoon, there was a lot of pedestrian activity and motor traffic around the local churches. Watching the church-goers and reading some of the notices on the signboards below the church signs, Arcturus could feel an idea forming in his head. Arcturus wondered if there might be some way to query the Morgendorffers' neighbors as to whether there was some sort of magical activity on Whirlwind Drive.

One of the boons of the Muggles' so-called "Scientific Revolution" was that present-day Muggles often had a hard time recognizing magic, sometimes even when it was being performed right in front of them. If it didn't follow what the Muggles felt were the laws of physics or chemistry, they ignored it. This worked well for Wizardkind and the various magical beings and creatures of Britain and other places in so far as it helped them remain hidden, but in circumstances like his, it was a bane. Most ordinary Muggles saw magic as unreal, and wouldn't remember seeing it afterwards.

Most Muggles, but not all of them. Muggle religious fanatics, on the other hand, tended to be the exception to this rule. Many of them believed in witchcraft and, while most of what they saw was not really magic, they were far quicker to recognize real magic than their secular-minded counterparts. Perhaps, thought Arcturus, their abilities could be put to use for his purposes. In Britain, most of that sort tended to be Non-Conformists, although in isolated pockets some were Catholics and even members in good standing of the Church of England.

Reading the names of the churches, Arcturus thought that these local protestant churches probably were much like the Non-Conformist churches back in England and probably shared their attitudes towards magic.

He'd already prepared for the possibility before he'd even left the UK. When he got back to his hotel room, he opened that part of the hotel dresser he'd taken over for his things and picked up a four-inch long wooden cross. He then opened another drawer and set out a somber-looking sports jacket, charcoal gray slacks, and a restrained necktie. From the closet, he pulled out a somber-looking sports jacket and charcoal-gray slacks.

Iago watched him with bemusement. "Sir, I didn't think you were a Christian," said Iago.

"I'm not," said Arcturus. "I don't follow the cult of the Crucified God."

"May I ask why you're dressing like one of their members?" asked Iago.

"I am about to go query the sheep," said Arcturus replied with a smile

.

"Beg pardon?" said Iago.

"I suspect one or the other of the girl's neighbors might have seen the girl perform accidental magic. Most Muggles these days are unlikely to notice accidental magic these days, but the more fanatical ones might well have seen it and know it for what it really is."

"Sir, those lunatics are dangerous," said Iago reprovingly. "They do know that magic is real and they might try to harm you if they even _suspect_ that you're a wizard."

"I've got my wand and they're at a disadvantage," said Arcturus.

"They do have brute force and the ones hereabouts do carry firearms," said Iago.

"I shall use deceit," said Arcturus.

"Young Hook, there's an old saying in the House of Black. In a contest between a sheep and a snake, the snake always wins. I intend to win," said Arcturus.

"It's your funeral if you're wrong," said Iago.

"I do intend to go, even if I have to apparate over there," said Arcturus.

"I'd best use the car and drop you off near Whirlwind Drive," said Iago resignedly. "Even the local dullards might notice that you're not who you say you are if you use apparition."

"There's the spirit, young Hook!" said Arcturus.

His legilmency told him that Iago was thinking that it was no wonder that Sirius Black had been sorted into Gryffindor if this was how his elders thought. He chose to ignore it.

Iago decided to be extra-careful this time. On the way to Whirlwind Drive, he insisted on pulling into a car wash and used the moment of concealment to perform a concealing charm to change the rental car's color and styling. He'd done it before, but thought that changing the car's color to yellow and adding tail fins might confuse pursuit if he drove an ordinary silver American sedan that lacked such fripperies.

They pulled up to their usual parking place and Iago opened the door for the aged wizard.

"Good luck, Sir," said Iago.

"Don't say good luck," responded Arcturus. "It's bad luck to say good luck in theater."

Arcturus stepped out of the car and onto the pavement, the wooden cross pendant around his neck, a Bible stacked on top of a clip board that had a Muggle legal pad clipped on it. He unbuttoned his sport-coat and let it hang open; unstylish, perhaps, but it allowed him to draw his wand faster.

Not that many people were out and about this afternoon. A couple of adults were mowing their lawns. A Muggle woman was planting something in her flower bed. A few children were playing some sort of ball game two streets away from the Morgendorffer house; he might question them later. He turned onto the 1600 block of Whirlwind Drive when he saw possible quarry, an overweight young girl wearing eyeglasses and what looked like a perpetual scowl.

"Good afternoon, my child," said Arcturus gravely.

"Good afternoon, sir," said the girl. "Are you a preacher or something?"

"Yes, my child," Arcturus responded. "I come from the Wiltshire Society for the Supression of Witchcraft."

"Wiltshire?" said the girl. "Is that in England or something?"

Arcturus thought that the girl was dull-witted, but she wasn't completely stupid.

"Yes, my child," said Arcturus.

"The Wiltshire Oppression Witchcraft Society," asked the girl. "Is that a Christian group?"

"Yes, young lady," said Arcturus.

Clearly this girl came from one of those American equivalents of a Non-conformist church. Arcturus could tell that the girl was inclined to believe him. He strongly suspected that his English accent must have had something to do with the child accepting his story at face value. It would have been touch-and-go as to whether the girl would have believed him In England, even with his polished Wilshire accent. Here in the back country of Texas, however, his English accent gave him authority and credibility among these people.

Still the girl did wonder what he was doing walking along the streets of her neighborhood.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"We are here because the Wiltshire Society for the Suppression of Witchcraft has heard reports of demonic activity in these parts," said Arcturus in his most earnest-sounding voice. "Have you or your family been attacked by the Devil or his followers?"

"Yes!" shouted Nancy Carrew, "I was attacked by a witch who tried to kill me with a rattlesnake!"

"Could you tell me about this assault by this minion of Satan?" asked Arcturus.

I was walking along Dust Devil Way, that's the next street over; they ought to change its name, calling it Dust Devil way promotes Devil worship," said Nancy. "I was walking along the street minding my own business, when a rattlesnake came flying over the roof and landed right in front of me!"

"The girl who lives in the house behind it hates me and threw that snake at me on purpose!" she added with vehemence.

"So who was this child?" asked Arcturus in his best faux-confessor voice.

"Daria Morgendorffer!" said Nancy. "She lives across the street from me with her Jew father, her dopey younger sister, and her mother. My aunt says she ought to be ashamed of herself because she's out working instead of staying at home and watching her children."

"And where does this acolyte of Satan dwell?" asked Arcturus.

"!540 Whirlwind Drive," shouted Nancy Carrew. "That witch lives right across the street from me!"

"I saw her throw the snake at me with my own eyes!" Nancy ranted. "That girl is possessed by demons and is doing the Devil's work! She is bent on corrupting the youth of Highland and laying the groundwork for Satan's kingdom on Earth!"

"Satan is indeed afoot in this neighborhood," he said unctuously. "The righteous are indeed in peril. We must pray for relief from God."

"Come, Sister Nancy, let us pray together," said Arcturus. He led her to the grass of a neighbor's lawn. He got down on his knees and the young girl followed suit.

"Beware those that speak with a serpent's tongue, for they are unholy and will bring you to ruin."

"Just as the serpent led Eve into temptation, so those that deal with adders shall lead you to the paths of wickedness and destruction. For the serpent is a great liar and just as he led Eve astray in the Garden of Eden, even now his tongue seeks to lead young maidens into the paths of witchery, false prophecy, and fornication."

As the girl knelt and prayed, Arcturus was able to use his legilmency to probe this girl's account of his great-granddaughter's alleged attack upon her. Looking into her memories, he saw and heard the scream coming from two houses away and saw the sight of a yard-long rattlesnake flying through the air and heard the _thump_ as the reptile hit the asphalt. _Stupid girl_ , thought Arcturus, _this was no attack_. But it was definitely magic, even if the girl couldn't see it as a response to danger, not an attack.

"Now let us pray for relief from Satan and his minions, trusting to Jesus and his ministering angels to protect us from evil," he said.

"Amen," said Nancy.

"Pray for Sister Daria that she may not be led astray by folly and witchcraft, and that in due course she may find relief from oppression and find her true vocation," he said.

The girl knelt in prayer, her eyes closed. Arcturus glanced about him, noted that nobody seemed to pay close attention to the unusual sight of an old man and a young girl kneeling in prayer on a stranger's lawn, and drew his wand. Nancy continued to kneel silently, praying. Arcturus wondered for a monent if the Crucified God did exist, just how much weight did he give to liars. Then he used a spell to suggest that the girl rise up and walk away, not paying attention to the man now standing behind her, his wand out, but satisfied that he'd gotten evidence that his great granddaughter could well be a witch after all.

DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country* DR No Country*DR No Country*DR No Country*

Author's note: For those not familiar with English church history, Non Conformist churches are those churches (mostly Evangelical Protestant Christian) that do not conform to the rites of the established Church of England or submit to the C of E's authority. Most US Evangelical Protestant churches would be considered Non Conformist churches in the United Kingdom.

And no, Arcturus Black is NOT a Christian.


	20. Chapter 20

DAR No Country Monday Breakfast

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Iago was surprised when Arcturus returned to the car less than forty five minutes later.

"That was fast," he said.

"I found out what I wanted to know," said Arcturus. "Let's go back downtown."

Iago started the car, turned onto Cravat, then onto Yancy, then got back on US Highway 87 North towards downtown Highland. They were paused at a traffic light when Arcturus put down a local tourist leaflet and said "I've got a new destination. This town has a small local history museum. We ought to see if it's open."

As matters turned out, the museum was still open when they arrived there. They spent an hour admiring old mammoth and bison bones, both of the contemporary variety and of the long-extinct long-horned variety, as well as cattle horns, old saddles, paper ephemera from the old Texas & Pacific Railway and models of their railway carriages, and a mock kitchen showing older kitchen utensils. Arcturus was amused to see that some member of the local witching community had donated a small cauldron, which nevertheless occupied a place of pride among its Muggle counterparts. There was also a small exhibit concerning Patricia McCormick, a woman bullfighter who had grown up in Highland and then gone on fought in bullfights for nearly a decade in Mexico.

That evening, he and Iago chose to remain at rest at the hotel. Iago turned on the telly, Arcturus wrote letters. They then ate dinner, and then both Arcturus and Iago watched more Muggle television, including a frightening Muggle popular history program that showed the alarming advances in Muggle weaponry.

Kreacher busied himself polishing both wizards' boots and no doubts thinking dark thoughts about his great granddaughter.

Both Arcturus and Iago went to bed early and slept soundly.

The next morning was bright and sunny. Arcturus could sense a change in the air.

"Whirlwind Drive again?" asked Iago as the two wizards dressed.

"No," said Arcturus. "I think I'm done with Whirlwind Drive."

"The MACUSA commissioner, that Thorngrove fellow. He recommended a local restaurant called Las Girasoles," said Arcturus. "I think we ought to have our breakfast there."

The breakfast was about twenty five blocks away. After entering the restaurant, he realized that he and Iago could have walked there, but he was in a strange town, so he'd prefer to ride by automobile. Thorngrove must have spread word of their coming. The head waitress invited him and Iago to sit in the back room. The back room's clientele was different from the clientele of the main part of the restaurant. Most of the habitués were brown-skinned with thick, straight black hair, although there were a couple of customers of European descent There were several little brown-skinned children in the back room aging in range from several months to twelve or so. Two of the girls caught Arcturus' particular attention, attractive twin girls with a look of mischief about them. They looked like they'd be seven or eight, about his great-granddaughter's age. He wondered why they weren't in school.

He introduced himself to their mother and learned that her name was Susana Aldrete.

"Excuse me, Madam," he said. "Your children are lovely, but why aren't they in school this morning?"

"A water pipe burst at school over the weekend," replied the housewife. She looked harried. "They say they've got it fixed, but what with clean-up and all, they aren't opening 'til noon."

The twins had been speaking in English when he and his party sat down, but when they noticed that he was watching them, they switched over to Spanish.

Well, he could play at this game, too. He'd done fairly well at old Anglo-Saxon back at Hogwarts; it was a useful skill, particularly when working with ancient runes. He was still able to speak it even now, howbeit not as fluently as in his younger years.

"Can you understand what they're saying, young Hook?" said Arcturus in Anglo-Saxon. "I don't understand a word of it."

"Actually, I do," replied Iago in the same language. "They're speaking Spanish. It's not the sort I learned when I visited Ibiza and Madrid, but I can understand most of it."

Arcturus decided that he liked this small café. He felt more at home here than he had at the other American eateries he'd visited thus far, despite its rustic and provincial atmosphere. Somehow he could tell that most of the people in the back room were either witches, wizards or Muggles who were either related to them or close friends. Unlike their English counterparts, the local wizards and witches didn't bother to dress much differently from their non-magical counterparts.

After watching the morning crowd, he decided to risk skirting the edges of the International Statutes of Secrecy. _Nothing wagered, nothing gained_ , he told himself, then wryly wondered if he was turning into a Gryffindor in his dotage.

"Kreacher, come here," he said out loud. "I want you."

Kreacher apparated directly into the dining room and instantly attracted attention. The waitress looked at Kreacher with astonishment; fortunately, she wasn't carrying anything or she might have dropped whatever was in her hands.

"I'd forgotten to let you know that there was one other member of my party," Arcturus said blandly, as if summoning house elves was an everyday occurrence in this backwater town. "Could you please bring us another chair, please?"

The waitress quickly produced a high chair and sat Kreacher in it, wounding his dignity but giving him firm seating. The house elf quickly became the center of a circle of interest. He did not enjoy having the attention of a crowd of mixed-bloods, Muggle-borns, and outright Muggles.

Arcturus reproached himself for his lack of foresight. He should have thought of that sooner. Kreacher's presence made not only drew everyone's attention, but made the girls more talkative.

He began conversing with Susana Aldrete, a local witch, and was soon able to draw the young girls into the conversation. He was surprised to learn that most of the wizards and witches in the area spent their first few years of schooling in public school alongside Muggles. He managed to get the young twins to give him their names: Connie and Sarita Aldrete. The Aldrete twins were fascinated by his house elf. They had never seen one before and Kreacher was clearly not only smaller than they were, but older than they were by far.

Arcturus decided to unbend enough to ask the young twins how they liked their school and how they liked going to school with Muggles. He was again reminded that Americans didn't use the word, and that here in Texas, at least, they preferred to call Muggles Habaneros or Habaneras. He then asked them if there were any other wizards or witches at their school. They told him about brothers and sisters and cousins who lived in the area who were a couple of years older than they were who had either gone off to wizarding schools or were about to. Most of them went to the Instituto in Mexico, a few went off to Ilvermorny. Other Spanish-sounding names were mentioned; Arcturus surmised that these were probably relatives.

He then asked them if there were any Anglo witches in the area. They mentioned Señor Thorngrove and said that there were several others, a couple who lived in town and a couple of others who lived out in the countryside. He then asked them if there were any their own age. The twins immediately went into a diatribe about a diabla gringa who'd turned their hair blue after some innocent teasing.

Somehow he managed to charm them into telling them more about this incident and learned that the diabla was named Daria and that she had red hair. They got as far as saying that they hoped that he was her grandfather or something and that he'd take her back to England so that she'd stop bothering them before their mother walked over and told them to shut up.

Arcturus again felt that rush of exultation as the girls' diatribe confirmed that his hopes had come true. "From the mouths of babes," he thought. He decided that these two gave him enough confirmation and corroboration that his great-granddaughter was indeed a witch and not a Squib. He made a side-glance at Kreacher. The house elf was trying to remove all traces of the dismay he'd let show when the Aldretes finished telling his master their diatribe.

Arcturus, Iago, and Kreacher, or at least Arcturus and Iago, finished a very pleasant breakfast at the small café. If the food wasn't top-notch, it was certainly a pleasant and informative meal, and Arcturus felt quite pleased with himself. On the whole, this visit to this out-of-the-way part of Texas had gone well for him. He'd met his great-granddaughter, and had learned that she already possessed a good mind. He wasn't completely settled as far as knowing whether or not she possessed magic, but he'd had accounts from two different witnesses concerning two different incidents of his great-granddaughter performing magic.

Before he paid for his meal and left the restaurant, he sent Kreacher back to his hotel room with the instruction to fold his and Iago's clothing. He and Iago would depart the very next morning.

They left Los Girasoles and drove back to their hotel room. Arcturus set Kreacher to folding his and Iago's clothing. He'd already used a reducto spell to shrink his Muggle children's clothing; he'd have to dispose of it someplace after he left Highland.

"So where to now, Sir?" asked Arcturus.

"I'm not sure," said Arcturus. A thought came to him. He knew enough about telephones now to be be able to make telephone calls himself. "I need to make a phone call first."

He picked up the telephone and carefully dialed a ten-digit telephone number. "Directory assistance," said the telephone operator.

"Midland, Texas," said Arcturus Black.

"What phone number, please?" said the operator.

"I'd like the telephone number for Bookman, Collins, Law and Scales," said Arcturus.

Iago saw that the old wizard had succeeded in connecting with the firm he was trying to call. Arcturus must be talking to a receptionist or secretary.

"I am trying to reach Helen Morgendorffer," said Arcturus.

Iago looked at him questioningly. Arcturus raised his finger, as if to say "Wait."

"I see," he said a couple of minutes later..

"She's trying a case?" he asked.

"A federal case?" he asked. "At the federal courthouse?"

"So she'll be busy all morning? I see."

"Perhaps I'll try my luck tomorrow," he said. "Thank you."

Arcturus hung up the telephone with a smile. "We have a destination," he said. "We are going to Midland."


	21. Chapter 21

Daria Ravenclaw No Country Drive to Midland

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

"I am trying to reach Helen Morgendorffer," said Arcturus.

Iago looked at him questioningly. Arcturus raised his finger, as if to say "Wait."

"I see," he said a couple of minutes later..

"She's trying a case?" he asked.

"A federal case?" he asked. "At the federal courthouse?"

"So she'll be busy all morning? I see."

"Perhaps I'll try my luck tomorrow," he said. "Thank you."

Arcturus hung up the telephone with a smile. "We have a destination," he said. "We are going to Midland."

They went downstairs and had the valet fetch their rented car. Arcturus had thought about how he'd spend the remainder of his time in Highland if he discovered that his great-granddaughter was a witch. He'd decided that he would do well to take a closer look at his great-granddaughter's mother. He knew little Daria's personality bore scant resemblance to that of her father or of her uncle Regulus. While he thought he saw traces of Walburga's indirect genetic influence on the girl, he suspected that Helen Morgendorffer contributed far more to her daughter's body and mindset.

He was already aware that little Daria's mama was a lawyer. But while he was aware that Helen Morgendorffer was a lawyer, it might be illuminating to see clever a lawyer she was. Was she some sort of glorified legal assistant, or did she lead cases herself? How intelligent was Helen Morgendorffer, and how much of Helen Morgendorffer's cleverness was passed on to her daughter?

Arcturus had already perused the highway map and knew that Midland was some distance off, a good thirty miles away from Highland. Arcturus settled back in his seat and looked at the landscape.

The drive to Midland was not all that interesting. The countryside certainly looked dryer than what he was used to back in England. The terrain, while not flat, lacked much in the way of hills or dales. There was green grass out, which Arcturus supposed could feed more than the scattered grazing cattle he occasionally saw chewing grass, watching highway traffic, sitting down, or looking utterly bored. There were also Mesquite trees, which Arcturus surmised must be common in this part of Texas. He did see several large devices that must be oil pumps, although he thought he heard someone at breakfast at the Hotel Aylesford call them pump jacks the other morning. None of the ones he saw were working. The car first passed Sulphur Creek Draw, then Salt Lake.

Iago would have disagreed with the older wizard about the grazing had Arcturus shared his thoughts about it. The countryside reminded him a bit of North Africa. Yes, there was some grass out now, but come summer, the grass would thin out or turn brown with summer heat and lack of rain and die. He caught glimpses of irrigated fields here and there when he didn't have to mind the antics of the drivers in front or to either side of him; clearly the Muggles knew that rain was unreliable hereabouts.

Both Arcturus and Iago could see that this part of the world was tied to the petroleum industry. There were warehouses for oil drilling supplies, facilities for installing or repairing oil field equipment, and lots with used oil field machinery for sale. There were a lot of the latter. Arcturus had heard conversations at the Hotel Aylesford's restaurant that the area was going through an oil bust.

He and Iago reached the outskirts of Midland shortly after they crossed the Midland County line. Some of the houses and Muggle-style stores looked much like the ones in Highland, except somewhat larger and better kept. Others were newer, larger, and much more impressive, although here and there, a few older shops, warehouses, and shabby motels remained here and there.

Midland was different than Highland. It was larger, for one thing, it looked far more prosperous, and had a clump of tall buildings at the city center. Arcturus thought that Midland was the sort of provincial city that Highland had once aspired to be but failed to become: large, modern, and prosperous. Still, even though Midland was clearly more prosperous than Highland, there was that atmosphere of worry that had resulted from the oil bust.

The center of Midland was a collection of high-rise office buildings surrounded by smaller two- and three-story buildings and parking lots. Arcturus thought that it looked like a smaller, provincial copy of larger American Muggle cities like Chicago or New York. A thought that came off and on over the years came back to bother him: the Muggles were constructing a world that excluded magic and could probably carry on very well without it. It was not a pleasant one.

It took Iago about fifteen minutes to work out the traffic flows of downtown Midland and then find a way to navigate their way to the right block of Wall Street and the federal court house. There was a parking lot across the street. By serendipity, Iago was able to find a parking spot and took it. It was a paid lot, guarded by an old muggle sitting in a flimsy-looking wooden booth with the doors and windows up for ventilation. Iago decided that the flat rate for the remainder of the day was extortionate, but not outrageously so.

They crossed the street, feeling unnervingly exposed to automobile traffic and lunatic motorists in the comparatively wide street, then entered the court house. To their surprise they did have to pass through something called a metal detector. Arcturus thought of the daggers he had in his luggage at the Hotel Aylesford back in Highland; he would have been in a sticky wicket if the Muggle guards had found them here. The Muggles did see his and Iago's wands, but let them keep them. He felt a faint shimmer of magic, wondered about it, then dismissed the thought that it might have any significance. This was a Muggle building housing Muggle courts and dealing with Muggle law. He couldn't imagine any sort of connection to the American wizarding world.

It took a couple of tries to find the right court room. The one he was searching for was on the second floor. He and Iago let themselves in, then found seats in the vistors' gallery and sat down. Arcturus quickly guessed that the fellow sitting behind the raised dais must be the judge hearing the case. But unlike Wizarding courts at the Ministry, witnesses, counsels for the plaintiffs, and counsels for the defendants were all at the same level, with only a railing separating them from the visitors. Helen Morgendorffer was the co-counsel for the defendant in a commercial case regarding a breach of contract. Arcturus recognized her from the photographs he'd seen of her as well as from the time he'd actually seen her in person.

This was a different Helen Morgendorffer than the one he'd seen back in Highland. Mrs. Morgendorffer was not being placating or motherly. She was confidently putting forth her arguments using logic, facts and established legal precedents to make her case for the defendant. Nor was she a mere legal assistant here. In fact, she was all but the formal leading counsel. Mrs. Morgendorffer had constructed the defendant's defense, chosen what legal arguments she'd use to defend her clients, and where she hadn't researched the evidence she planned to use herself, she had directed her subordinates' research.

Arcturus decided to use his legilimency to peer into the minds of the magistrate, Mrs. Morgendorffer, and the other lawyers. The presiding judge was of the opinion that Mrs. Morgendorffer was presenting a very competent, well-constructed legal case. The counsel for the plaintiff was unhappy because the defendants' counsel was a highly competent tigress who was either checking or demolishing his own legal arguments, and wishing that he'd opted for a trial by jury instead of having the judge decide solely on its legal merits. Mrs. Morgendorffer was confident and Arcturus felt the woman's sub-conscious show the attitude of a general flattening her opposition. So engrossed was Arcturus in watching the legal proceedings that he failed to notice the five MACUSA marshals enter the courtroom and take seats to his sides, his read, and in front of him.

Judge Pound glanced at the spectators' gallery in his courtroom. Unusually, this morning's proceedings had a couple of spectators, an older man and his younger companion. The older man looked far older than the younger one. Grandfather and grandson? There was something off about them, something he couldn't put his finger on, but definitely off. He decided that they were harmless. Besides, he didn't have the time or attention to spare for speculation.

He glanced again at the spectators' gallery again about fifteen minutes later. The two oddballs were joined by a local character he recognized named James Dillon. He'd seen Dillon in his courtroom and around the court house every now and again and even chatted with him once or twice. Dillon dressed like something from the Wild West, complete with floral vest, duster, and a string tie, although he kept his hat off his head in the court room. He also carried himself like a peace officer. Despite his carriage and behavior, however, Dillon insisted that he was no lawman and that he had no ties to federal, state, or local law enforcement. Judge Pound suspected that James Dillon wasn't telling the whole truth, and occasionally wondered why.

Still, Judge Pound liked having James Dillon in his courtroom. While federal courtrooms tended to be orderly places even on the worst occasions, whenever Mr. Dillon was seated in the visitors' gallery, things seemed to be particularly orderly. Judge Pound knew he did a good job at keeping counsel for opposing sides in his cases on good behavior, and he knew that he had the bailiff at hand to handle rowdy spectators, but with James Dillon in the court room, spectators were even more likely to be well-behaved. As far as he was concerned, James Dillon was on his good books.

Judge Pound could glanced again at the visitors' gallery and could sense rising tension. The attorney for the plaintiff had opened another legal brief and was about to begin a rebuttal to Helen Morgendorffer's counter-argument.

"Mr. Cowan, a moment please," said Judge Pound. He looked at the bailiff, who'd also noted the rising tension in the visitors' gallery, and then glanced back at the judge. The bailiff looked at James Dillon, who looked back at the bailiff, who then looked back at him. It looked like the bailiff thought that Mr. Dillon had things under control.

Judge Pound turned to Mr. Cowan and said "Please proceed, Mr. Cowan."

Arcturus' concentration on Helen Morgendorffer was broken when he felt someone pull on his jacket sleeve and pass him a note. The note read " _Could you come with_ _us, please?"_ Arcturus looked to the men sitting to either side of them and realized that these must be the Marshals.

He slowly and carefully drew a Muggle-style ballpoint pen from his pocket and wrote " _Not yet. Could you let me watch for a few minutes? Then I'll peacefully go with you."_

The Marshal who'd tugged his sleeve wrote " _No magic, keep your hands away from your wand, and keep your hands out where we can see them."_

The judge had stopped listening to the other lawyer and was eyeing him, Iago, and the American Marshals. Arcturus realized that he'd put his foot in it. He put his hands on the bench in front of him and sighed.

Somehow, the leading Marshal communicated something to the uniformed Muggle, who communicated something to the Judge, and the Judge allowed the lawyer opposing Mrs. Morgendorffer to resume his rebuttal.

The Judge accepted the rebuttal, although Arcturus never heard whether the Judge thought it was valid or not. The counsel from the plaintiff began discussing some point of law with his assistant counsel, and Arcturus realized that that was probably all he was going to hear of today's case. He turned the piece of paper in his lap and wrote, " _Very well, I shall peacefully accompany you."_ Then the leading Marshal rose, as did the other Marshals, as did he, and then Iago, and they all exited the court room.

"Please don't try to apparate away," the Marshal said softly. "We not only have wards that alert us whenever wizards and witches are in the Muggle court house, but we also have splinching jinxes that kick in unless you know the right countercharms. Some of those splinches can be fatal."

They went down the hallway and entered what looked like some sort of cleaning-woman's closet. Not unsurprisingly, there was a floo there.

"It's a closed system," said the Marshal. "It only goes to one place." Arcturus accepted the floo powder, threw it down, and vanished.

He reappeared—someplace else. He didn't think that the American Aurors, these Marshals, shared the same contiguous space with the Muggle federal court house. This place had the air of someplace older. Arcturus suspected that it was some distance away.

"Could you follow me, please?" said the leading American Marshal.

"I should introduce myself," said the leading Marshal. "My name is James Dillon, I'm the Senior Marshal in charge of this district for MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Is this the same district as Commissioner Thorngrove's, then?" asked Arcturus.

"No," the Marshal replied. "You crossed over from Commissioner Thorngrove's district over to Commissioner Fred Avery's district when you crossed the Midland county line. Not to speak ill of Commissioner Thorngrove, but things have gotten a bit slack over on his turf during the last decade or so."

"It wasn't always that way. Mister Thorngrove was quite the wizard in his day. I personally think he ought to retire now, instead of letting the clock run out."

"Are we in trouble then?" asked Iago.

"You're not being charged with anything, but MACUSA's DMLE has a policy of not allowing wizards and witches to interfere with the operation of Habanero courts and the Habanero US Department of Justice except under specific authorized circumstances. Statutes of Secrecy and all that. You fellas tripped the wards when you entered the Federal Court House."

"Are we under arrest?" Arcturus asked politely.


	22. Chapter 22

Daria Ravenclaw No Country For Unpleasant Old Men Busted At The Court House

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

"Are we in trouble then?" asked Iago.

"You're not being charged with anything, but MACUSA's DMLE has a policy of not allowing wizards and witches to interfere with the operation of Habanero courts and the Habanero US Department of Justice except under specific authorized circumstances. Statutes of Secrecy and all that. You fellas tripped the wards when you entered the Federal Court House."

"Are we under arrest?" Arcturus asked politely.

"You are not under arrest, you are being detained," said Marshal Dillon. "You're not even in trouble so far, this is just a friendly meeting, although I would ask you to put your wand over there."

Arcturus and Iago reluctantly placed their wands over on a side-table. Iago nervously swallowed and wondered how much trouble they were really in.

"Yes, we do have wards here that prevent people from waving their wands and disapparating away," said Marshal Dillon.

"And since this is nothing but a friendly meeting, I think we ought to sit down and play cards."

Marshal Dillon set down a card deck and three rolls of American Muggle coins that Arcturus could see were called pennies. The Marshal kept one roll, then handed one roll to Arcturus and the other to Iago. He then took the cards and shuffled them. They were wizarding cards that had been enchanted so as to make them unmarkable or unreadable from the back.

He, Arcturus, and Iago went through one game of twenty-one, and then another. Arcturus was a wizard who believed that practicing legilimency while playing cards was the height of bad manners. The Marshal, he was disturbed to find, was an excellent occulemens.

They spoke little, and what they did talk about was trivia. The Marshal came from a family of Aurors and followed in his father's footsteps. But not all of them had been Aurors; his great great grandfather had been a Marshal, howbeit a Muggle one.

They sat there playing cards, Arcturus wondering just what this Marshal was about. Still, he'd rather play cards with this peculiar Auror than face a formal arrest or interrogation. At the end of five hands, he had gained half a roll of Muggle pennies, the Marshal had held his own, and young Iago had lost his pennies and most of the Muggle coins he'd brought then into the game.

As the Marshall was dealing the cards for the sixth game, Iago stood up with a grimace.

"Sir, Marshal," he said. "I'm afraid that something disagrees with me. I need to use the lavatory."

"Kelly," said the Marshal, looking at one of the other marshals who'd taken a side seat in the conference room while Marshal Dillon played cards with Arcturus and Iago, "show him the bathroom, would you?"

Arcturus was left alone with Marshal Dillon and another, silent marshal who'd thus far said nothing.

Marchal Dillon looked Arcturus in the eye. "Mr. Black, you're an interesting character," he said. "We don't often get fellers like you in these parts."

"You first came to our attention a couple of years ago when you tried to access records concerning one Ashworth Barksdale, deceased, an employee with the non-magical US Department of State. You then arrived on a charter jet at the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport five days ago, and then checked into the Hotel Aylesford in Highland, Texas. This far you've been there four nights."

"Your presence was detected in a court room at the US Federal Court House in Midland, Texas about an hour and a half ago after you tripped the wards. Coincidentally, Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer, daughter of Ashworth Barksdale, was trying a case as co-counsel for the defense in that very same court room."

"That in itself is not enough for me to suspect anything," The Marshal gave Arcturus a look that implied that he suspected that there _was_ something, and not something minor, either. "However, Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer has three daughters and I note that her eldest, Miss Daria Lynn Morgendorffer was born on April 9th, 1979. That means she was conceived in the summer of 1978, when your grandson Sirius Black was still at liberty and while your grandson Regulus was still alive. And I am not surprised to note that Mrs. and Mrs. Morgendorffer currently reside in Highland, Texas."

"I don't expect that it would be too difficult for me to discover that Helen Morgendorffer and her husband were traveling in Britain that summer, would it?"

Arcturus shrugged and said nothing.

"I don't believe in co-incidences, Mr. Black," said Marshal Dillon. "I suspect that you had reasons for poking around the Barksdales, and then the Morgendorffers. I believe there are reasons that all these facts are connected."

"Let me tell you what I think. I've had a look-see at your family tree. I think your house was badly hit during the British Wizarding War. I've discovered that there are currently no Blacks near child-bearing age save Sirius Black, serving a life sentence in Azkaban prison, Bellatrix Black LeStrange, also serving a life sentence in Azkaban prison, Narcissa Black Malfoy, currently married to Lucius Malfoy, and Andromeda Black Tonks.

"It does seem odd that a wizard of your age and your social standing would be found poking around a Podunk town like Highland, Texas. This part of Texas is not noted for its landmarks or tourist attractions, and I don't see any sign that you're looking over cattle or mohair goats for breeding. And, as I noted earlier, Miss Daria Morgendorffer, daughter of Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer, was born on April 9th, 1979. That means she was conceived in the summer of 1978, when your grandson Sirius was still at liberty and while your grandson Regulus was still alive.

Marshall Dillon studied the dark wizard seated across from him at the small table. _This fella is a_ #### _good occulemens,_ he thought.

"I reckon you don't want to tell me your **_real_** reason for visiting Highland," he said.

"I would rather not," said Arcturus.

"Mr. Black, you're the best occulemens I've had the pleasure of dealing with," said Marshal Dillon. Marshal Dillon put up his hand. "You don't have to say anything," he continued, "but you've got tells. And you've just told."

 _That was what that #### card game was about,_ thought Arcturus.

"Miss Morgendorffer. She's your great-granddaughter, isn't she?" he said.

Marshal Dillon put up his hand again.

"You don't have to answer me. I can understand why you might come all the way out to West Texas, especially considering your family's recent history. I have children myself, and I'd be very sad to learn my line was coming to an end."

Arcturus remained silent. The ruddy marshal had deduced the _**real**_ reason for his lingering in this area.

"Mister Black, this is where we end what was a friendly visit and things turn official," said Marshal Dillon.

"You weren't planning to take her away with you, were you? Because I _**insist**_ that she remains with her mother and the guy she's married to," he said sternly. "Whatever Miss Morgendorffer's true parentage may be, Jacob Morgendorffer is her father of record as well as the man she thinks of as her daddy."

"I wasn't planning to," said Arcturus.

"Good," said Marshal Dillon.

"So why _are_ you gracing the Permian Basin with your presence, Mr. Black?" asked Marshal Dillon. "The truth."

"You shall have it," said Arcturus. He hated negotiating from a position of weakness, but this was his best opportunity to avoid charges, and better yet, depart the area with a minimum of notice and fuss.

"As you correctly surmised, Miss Morgendorffer is my great-granddaughter. I've been aware of her existence for several years now, but up until recently, I thought I'd best remain at a remove. Now, though, I'm no longer sure as to how much longer I am for this life, I wanted to learn if she was a witch and see if she had the mettle of a daughter of the House of Black. Since I'm not sure as to how well my health will hold up, I decided that that if I wanted so much as a glimpse of my great-granddaughter, I'd best do it now while I'm still fit to travel.

"Did you find out whether she was?" asked Marshal Dillon.

"Directly, no," said Arcturus. "I didn't want to commit a flagrant violation of the International Statutes of Secrecy. However, I believe that I now have evidence of at least two incidents of her performing accidental magic, so I feel fairly certain that she is indeed a witch, not a squib. I now believe that Miss Morgendorffer is likely as not going to be the heiress of the House of Black."

"So what is your interest in the girl's mother?" asked Marshal Dillon.

"Having met the girl myself, I wanted to get a sense of what sort of mind her mother possesses. I knew my grandsons well enough to know that the young lady doesn't take after either one of them. I believe that she takes after her mother, which in the case of our family's recent history, Is no bad thing," Arcturus finished ruefully.

"So what is so special about her mother?" said Arcturus. "Surely she's not a witch, is she?"

"I figured you'd ask," said Dillon. "Tell you what. I'll tell you."

Arcturus' eyes widened at what Marshal Dillon told him.

"Really?" he said.

"Really," said Marshal Dillon. "I'm not going to say it twice."

"Can I go?" asked Arcturus.

"Not yet," said Marshal Dillon.

"I would like to help you remain out of mischief while you're in the area," said Marshal Dillon. "I need to talk to someone first."

He picked up a telephone on his desk and dialed a number. It was an older model, one with a rotary dial, but it clearly worked. He must have connected with a secretary or a receptionist of some sort, because he had to ask whoever-it-was if he could speak to a Marta Flores.

"Telephones work here," he said, "Not that well, but well enough."

Marta Flores must have picked up her telephone.

"Mrs. Flores? Marshal Dillon here. Are you free for the next half-hour or so?"

"Excellent," said Marshall Dillon. "Could you come over here to the Marshal's office? I need a deputy for a very special job."

Mrs. Flores arrived about fifteen minutes later. She was a dark-eyed, brown-skinned woman with well-coiffed hair wearing what Arcturus had learned to recognize was a Muggle businesswoman's power suit. _Mexican descent_ , Arcturus thought; he'd learned to recognize it. She was wearing what Arcturus had learned to recognize as a successful Muggle businesswoman's working attire. Mrs. Morgendorffer and a couple of the other court officials had been wearing similar clothing when he visited the Muggle court room. For a moment, Arcturus thought she was a Muggle, not a witch; then he saw her pull a wand out of her handbag.

"In case you're interested, Mrs. Flores is related to the Casanegras," said Marshal Dillon.

 _Interesting,_ thought Arcturus.

"So Marshal, why did you ask me to come down here?" asked Mrs. Flores.

"I need you to administer an Unbreakable Oath," said Marshal Dillon.

"Really?" said Mrs. Flores. "What about?"

"I would like you to cast an unbreakable oath so that Arcturus Black, a visiting English wizard will promise not to harm Helen Morgendorffer, her husband, or her children, nor seek to take any of Helen's children away from her, particularly her oldest daughter."

Marta studied the English wizard. She wondered what Helen had done to offend an English wizard. It wasn't that Helen didn't have it in her to be offensive; Helen did have a temper and a sharp tongue and her work habits could give offense.

But offend an English wizard? Helen was a work-a-holic who rarely traveled, and when she did, it was only visit family.

And as far as Marta was concerned, Helen was very Habanera—unless. She remembered the baby shower the girls at the law office had held for Helen's youngest daughter before she was born. Helen's oldest daughter was there and Marta had had to draw her wand to dissipate the little girl's accidental magic. She remembered staring at Helen's oldest daughter and Helen's oldest daughter staring back at her.

Despite her practice of logic and years of legal training, Marta Flores hadn't lost the gift of intuition. She looked at the elderly wizard and started mentally comparing his face to Helen's oldest girl. Helen's oldest looked a lot like her mother, of course; but Helen's eldest looked very little like the photo of Helen's husband that she kept on her desk. Studying the old wizard's face, Marta saw a somewhat stronger resemblance to Helen's daughter, which meant…

" _Oh, Helen, you put the horns on your husband and here is the girl's grandfather_ , she thought. It was the sort of thing she'd seen on Mexican soap operas, back when she was a child and had time to watch them.

"I understand that the House of Black and the Casanegras had a violent falling-out a while back," said Marshal Dillon.

"It's a very old feud," said Arcturus, "and we haven't gone out of our way to be unpleasant to any passing Casanegras for the last century and a half."

"Madam Flores," said Arcturus. He kissed her hand like a courtier greeting his queen. In spite of herself, Marta Flores was charmed by the old brujo.


	23. Chapter 23

Daria Ravenclaw No Country Finale

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

"A question, please", said Mrs. Flores. "Grandfather or Great-grandfather?"

"Great-grandfather," replied Arcturus, startled that the witch had correctly guessed the family connection so quickly.

"As I said earlier, I want to keep you out of mischief while you're in this part of the world. I believe the best means is through an Unbreakable Vow," said Marshal Dillon. "Are you willing to swear such a vow?"

"Only if I read the text of such a vow beforehand," said Arcturus Black.

Marshal Dillon opened a folder on his desk and extracted two sheets of paper. He handed one to Arcturus, the other to Mrs. Flores. Both the English wizard and the American witch read through their pages. By mutual consent, Arcturus and Mrs. Flores exchanged copies and read through them. Arcturus was no lawyer, but as the head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, he was used to dealing with legal documents and proof-reading them carefully. Their pages were identical, with no additional clauses.

"I am willing to take such a vow," said Arcturus.

"Do you, Arcturus Black, vow not to directly harm or cause harm to Helen Morgendorffer, Jacob Morgendorffer, or any of their daughters directly or through agents direct or indirect?"

"I so swear," said Arcturus.

"Do you, Arcturus Black, vow not to kidnap or coerce Daria Lynn Morgendorffer away from her mother Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer and her legal husband Jacob Morgendorffer either directly or through agents direct or indirect?" said Marta Flores.

"I so swear," said Arcturus.

"Do you, Arcturus Black, vow not to kidnap or coerce Daria Lynn Morgendorffer's mother Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer or her stepfather Jacob Morgendorffer or either of her two younger sisters so as to coerce Daria Lynn Morgendorffer away from her mother?" Was she more of an assistant, or did she lead cases herself?

"I so swear," said Arcturus.

"Do you vow not to pressure, manipulate, or ruin the employers of Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer or Jacob Morgendorffer so as to force them to end their marriage or relinquish custody of their children?" said Marta Flores.

"I so swear," said Arcturus.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame emerged from the wand and wound itself like a red-hot wire around his and the Marshal's hands.

"So may it be," said Marta Flores.

"So may it be," Arcturus echoed.

The Marshal let go of Arcturus' hand and let it fall to his side. _I don't like you_ that _much_ , he thought.

"You might be interested to know that Mrs. Flores works in Mrs. Morgendorffer's law office," said Marshal Dillon.

Arcturus hadn't thought of wizarding folk working side-by-side with non-magical folk doing the same sort of work.

"I can't imagine a Muggle law firm employing someone to perform witchcraft," he said.

"No, she's an attorney, just like Mrs. Morgendorffer," said Marshal Dillon. "There aren't that many jobs to be had out here.

"So what now, Mr. Black?" said Marshal Dillon.

"I'm planning to leave," said Arcturus. "I've learned most of what I wanted to know. I really don't see any reason to linger further. I've already put my great-granddaughter at risk by staying hereabouts this long. As you and Mr. Thorngrove have demonstrated, my activities have been noticed. Also, I really _am_ an astronomy enthusiast, and I _do_ want to see the McDonald Observatory in Fort Davis. I gave them a respectable-sized grant last year and I'd like to see what they've done with my money. I then want to see another observatory or two, visit Santa Fe, possibly Taos, floo back to Dallas, then fly back to Britain."

"Any plans to revisit Highland or Midland?" asked Marshal Dillon.

"No, barring death or some sort of serious illness or injury where my intervention would be necessary, I don't plan to meddle with the Morgendorffers while I'm here in this part of the world," said Arcturus.

There was a knock on the conference room door. The door opened; it was Iago. Arcturus could see two Marshals standing behind him.

"Madam Flores, before I go," said Arcturus. Marta Flores raised her eyebrows.

"I would like to trouble you for one of your business cards," said Arcturus.

"Mister Black," said Marshal Dillon, an edge of warning in his voice.

"Marshal, my great-granddaughter will be of age to attend Hogwarts in three year's time," said Arcturus. "While I do plan to stay away from her and her family until then, I may have good reason to speak with them directly before then."

Iago stared at the head of the House of Black in surprise. He had suspected that the young Texas girl might have some sort of blood tie to the old wizard, but it was still a surprise to hear his suspicion confirmed.

Arcturus looked at Iago, then at Marshal Dillon. "Since I've sworn an unbreakable oath not to harm them, I might as well put them under my protection."

Marshal Dillon stared at him for what seemed ages, then nodded. "I see," he said.

Marta Flores opened her purse and handed Arcturus a couple of her business cards. From his vantage point, Iago could see that they were Muggle-style cards.

"A pleasant journey to you, then, Mister Black," he said.

"Thank you, Marshal," replied Arcturus.

The Marshal nodded at Arcturus and Arcturus decided that he was now free to leave the office.

Iago still looked a little startled by the revelation.

Iago looked at Arcturus. "So the girl we've been watching is.." he started to say.

"Outside, in the car, not here," Arcturus interrupted.

They walked to the car. Just as Arcturus had suspected the MACUSA offices were several blocks away from the Muggle federal courthouse. Iago opened the door for Arcturus, scurried around to the other side, and started the engine.

"So the little girl with the eyeglasses is your great-granddaughter," said Iago wonderingly.

"Yes," said Arcturus.

"May I ask which one of your grandsons was the father?" asked Iago.

"I'd rather not say," said Arcturus.

"Are you going to let her remain _**here**_?" asked Iago.

"I think that in obscurity is her safety," said Arcturus. "I'd rather that the girl's ties of blood with the Ancient and Noble House of Black remain obscure for now."

Iago thought of the local Muggles he'd seen on the streets here in Midland and back in Highland, and also about the local wizarding folk he'd seen and met in the small café back in Highland. They did talk and dress very much like each other. He thought of the fun he could have watching the girl throwing Pureblood society on its ear when she started talking like a cowgirl. He smiled to himself. Something to look forward to in about ten years' time.

"So where to now?" asked Iago.

"If we can, I'd like to leave for Alpine tonight," said Arcturus.

They began the drive back to Highland. Arcturus spotted a cheap, shabby looking motel by the side of the road with a sign saying "Rooms for rent—Vacancy."

"I have an idea," he said. "Get off this roadway, circle around, then pull in over there at that cheap motel. We'll get a room, pay for it in advance, use it for a couple of hours, then leave."

"Why do you want a room in a pest-hole like this?" asked Iago.

"Privacy," Arcturus replied. "We can apparate back to Highland, pack, come back here, and save an hour or so of travel time."

Arcturus paid the hotel clerk in cash, then he and Iago entered the small, shabby room, locking the door behind them. From there, they apparated back to their room at the Hotel Aylesford In Highland. Arcturus joined his house elf in packing their things while Iago telephoned ahead to their hotel in Alpine to see if they could check in a day early. Once Iago succeeded in securing lodgings for the evening in Alpine, all three of them completed their packing. Arcturus and Kreacher then apparated to the shabby motel in Midland, then busied themselves with packing the rental car while Iago checked out of the Hotel Aylesford. The house elf did much of the work, but Arcturus assisted him. He did not want to make a midnight arrival in Alpine. Iago joined them a short time later. By that time their luggage had been stowed in the car's bonnet, and they departed.

From Midland, they drove to Odessa, ate dinner at a non-descript Muggle restaurant, then turned south on US highway 385.

The sun set by the time they reached Interstate 10 at Fort Stockton. They drove west along the Interstate for about twenty miles, then turned south onto the highway that would lead them to Alpine.

This part of Texas was even more sparsely populated than the area near Highland. The stars were bright and numerous in the night sky, much like they must have been before the Muggles started pouring smoke into the atmosphere and their electric lights made the dimmer stars less visible.

"Iago," said Arcturus.

"Do you want anything, Sir?" said Iago.

"Find a safe spot to pull off the highway," said Arcturus. "I'd like to look at the stars.

Blacks had been named after stars, galaxies, celestial objects and constellations for generations. So far as he knew, there were no stars named Daria. He was well to the south here. Texas was at the same latitude as Morocco.

He looked up in the sky, towards the southern horizon. There. There was one. It probably already had a name or a astronomical catalog number, but he decided that for tonight, at least, he was going to call it Daria.

-FIN-

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Authors' Notes:

This is not the canon Daria, nor is it the canon Harry Potter universe.

James Dillon was a reference to the long-running American TV western Gunsmoke. It's nice to think that Matt Dillon could conceivably have had a lateral descendant.

Commissioner Fred Avery was named for the famous American animator and creator of such characters as Droopy Dog.


	24. Chapter 24

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men. Epilogue: Letters

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

A heads-up for those reading this story. _Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men_ is complete. Arcturus Black and Iago Hook did go on to have further adventures as they traveled first to Texas' Big Bend Country, then to such places as Socorro and Alamogordo, New Mexico, and then on to Santa Fe and Taos, New Mexico, before flooing back to Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport and then flying back to Britain, but they aren't part of this story. Still, as a formerly-rabid Tolkien fan, I realize that I not only enjoy reading epilogues and appendices, I occasionally enjoy writing them, too, hence this epilogue.

Daria Morgendorffer's adventures continue in _Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years_.

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country* Daria Ravenclaw: No Country*

Daria Ravenclaw: No Country For Unpleasant Old Men. Epilogue: Letters

From: Frederick Avery  
Commissioner, South Permian District  
MACUSA  
May 5th, 1987

To: Buford Thorngrove  
Commissioner, Sweetwater District  
MACUSA

Dear Buford,

It has come to my attention that you recently had a visit from two wizards from Britain, one of them being Arcturus Black, from Britain's notorious House of Black, the other being his traveling companion Iago Hook.

I thought you should know that Mr. Black and Mr. Hook crossed over into the South Permian District. While they were there, they tripped the protective wards that the DMLE's Marshals' Office had placed around the non-magicals' Federal Courthouse in Midland. They were detained and questioned by James Dillon, the Senior Marshal in charge of the district.

Marshal Dillon questioned Mister Black and discovered the reason why he was loitering in your district. Mr. Black was in the area to see his great-granddaughter, a Miss Daria Lynn Morgendorffer, a young girl of eight years old. Mister Black strongly believes that he has credible evidence that Miss Morgendorffer, like other members of the Black family, is a full-blown witch, despite the fact that her birth-mother Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer just missed being classified as a witch herself.

I realize that it's easy to jump to conclusions, especially with Highland, and assume that any young witch or wizard who turns up has some connection with the Gonzalez, Huerta, or Benavides families, but it looks like Miss Morgendorffer got overlooked by the people in the Bureau of Health and Human Services. Since she was born in Austin, not here, I wouldn't be surprised if someone down there messed up.

Nevertheless, I strongly suggest referring Miss Morgendorffer, as well as her sisters, to the local Bureau of Health and Human Services for observation. Despite the lack of evidence that anyone else in that household is magical, I would not be surprised if little Miss Daria won't be the only witch coming from that family.

Cordially,

Fred Avery,  
Commissioner, South Permian District  
MACUSA

Azkaban Prison  
North Sea  
May 22nd, 1987

"Mail call!" said the guard at Azkaban.

Sirius Black, a prisoner Azkaban Prison, had learned not to have any expectations about receiving mail. Most of the time he didn't receive any, and when he did, he usually destroyed it. Most of his friends had chosen to believe Secretary Crouch's filthy lie that he was one of Voldemort's followers and had stopped writing him, one or two of them after writing hateful letters vilifying him for murdering James and Lily and gloating that he'd been sentenced to Azkaban for life, the rest simply ignoring him. He also received hate-mail from wizards, witches, and occasionally Squibs for being one of Voldemort's supporters and for his supposed role in killing James and Lily. He also received a couple of "serves you right" letters from Voldemort's lesser supporters as well as from a couple of Slytherins he'd bedeviled at Hogwarts; like him, they didn't believe in his guilt, but they weren't above reveling in his misery. He had gotten fan mail from a couple of emotionally-disturbed witches who wrote him hopeful letters about him becoming a pen friend. But from what he'd thought of as his real friends, nothing. And from his family, nothing.

"Ow's this, Black? Someone's written to you," jeered the guard, and slid a letter through the slot.

Sirius saw the broken seal. He recognized the seal as one used by the House of Black. Who in the family would be writing him? It wouldn't be his mother; she'd died a couple of years ago. His curiosity piqued, he opened the letter and started reading.

Dear Grandson,

I decided to write you since I doubt that any of your childhood acquaintances or your former Hogwarts friends have bothered to write you since your incarceration.

I recently returned from a trip to America. Call it an old man's fancy, but I decided that I wanted to see at least part of the American Southwest at ground level and decided to travel there by Muggle means. I took a charter jet to a city called Dallas and then drove across what the American Muggles call the Lone Star State by automobile. Since you were obviously unavailable, I managed to engage the services of one Iago Hook, the great grandnephew of one of my Slytherin housemates from many years ago. I doubt you'd remember him; he was a young boy when you graduated.

I shan't bore you with the names of most of the places we visited in Texas. I do remember a stop near a Morning Village, where I bought lemonade from a Queenly young lady of eight years of age. She looked to be in good health and I was impressed with her intelligence and poise. Such a maiden would do credit to our house and the world. Ah, would that she become one of us!

I also visited a Texas city called Midland. There, I saw a daughter of Leda do battle in a court room. She was an attractive woman with a formidable mind of her own, and to my surprise, she impressed me. So much so, that with my changed state of mind, in another time I might have pressed her mother for an arranged marriage with either you or your brother, her blood status be damned.

I went on to visit the Muggle observatories at Fort Davis and Alamogordo. I also visited the radio telescopes near Alamogordo, as well as the Muggle and magical parts of both Santa Fe and Taos before returning to Britain. The art was very interesting, but quaint. The locals were very un-English.

Chin up!

Your grandfather.

Sirius read through the letter thrice, wondering what the old man was trying to tell him. Then he began to decipher his grandfather's message. Morning village. His daughter's legal surname was a German surname that meant— _from the morning village_. His daughter's given name meant "queen-like or queenly." His grandfather had actually seen and talked with her, and he was impressed. That was unusual; his grandfather used not to be particularly impressed with anyone.

Daughter of Leda. Both wizards and muggles were acquainted with ancient Greek mythology, and much of the lore of the old Greek wizards and wizards had survived the coming of the Christians, the Dark Ages, and the Ottoman Conquest. Helen was Leda's and Zeus' daughter. The old man had seen the mother. Sirius wondered if Helen Morgendorffer had anything to say to him. He wasn't sure that he wanted to find out.

He thought about his grandfather's letter and wondered why the old wizard had sent it. He could hardly imagine that his grandfather had chosen to throw in with the Order of the Phoenix. Nor was he sure that his grandfather had rescinded his expulsion from the family. His grandfather was probably playing dynastic games with the few family pieces he still had left. On the other hand, it was the first hopeful sign he'd had in a long, long time.


End file.
